


An Angel, A Hunter, and Two Dark Princes Walk Into a Cantina

by BeesAreAwesome, rw_eaden



Series: Crossover Madness (SPN/Star Wars) [1]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Daddy Issues, Deep Cuts From Extra Canon Material? In My Fanfic? It's More Likely Than You Think, Enemies to Eh - You're Alright I Guess, Explicit Language, Gen, General Hux is Not Amused, Going undercover, Intergalactic Road Trip From Hell, Jack Kline Wields A Lightsaber, Not Quite Linear But Not Totally Nonlinear, Phasma Lives, Platonic Relationships, Pop Culture, Sam Winchester Wields A Lightsaber, Shades of Boy King Sam Winchester, That is how the Force Works, That's Not How The Force Works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 08:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19269598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeesAreAwesome/pseuds/BeesAreAwesome, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rw_eaden/pseuds/rw_eaden
Summary: In the middle of America on a far off planet named Earth, the brothers Sam and Dean Winchester are locked in a heated battle over the fate of movie night. While the brothers argue, a strange magic creeps from the depths of their storerooms, transporting the brothers, their best friend Castiel, and their pseudo-son Jack to a galaxy far, far away. As the galaxy hurdles towards all-out war between the allied Resistance forces and the First Order under command of the despot Kylo Ren, Sam, Dean, and Castiel find themselves in a cantina, separated from their young charge. In order to find their way back home, across the universe, they must make an uneasy alliance with one of the last living humans in possession of ancient Jedi knowledge - the Supreme Leader himself.Meanwhile, Jack finds himself an unwitting soldier in the ranks of the Resistance, face to face with his heroes for the first time. While making friends with his new allies, Jack will begin to understand the nature of good and evil not only in the galaxy but in each one of us.





	1. Sam and Castiel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya, rw_eaden, here! 
> 
> So, I gotta say, I was pretty sure this fic wasn’t going to get written like, several times during the process. Somehow I managed it, though so that’s good! Anyway, thank you for giving this fic a shot. It’s a crossover and it’s mostly gen and I know how that sometimes gets weird for people. So thank you for trying it out.   
> Anyway, housekeeping stuff. This fic is a crossover between late season Supernatural and the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy. I feel like I should tell you know (so I don’t get screamed at later) that I am extremely sympathetic to Ben Solo/Kylo Ren and that I’m a big ol’ Reylo. Yes, this is a gen fic (meaning we’re not focusing on ships here) but my interpretation of the ST so far is that the relationship between Rey and Kylo is in fact romantic and plays an important role in whatever the story will ultimately be. Now, I’m not going to turn this into a smoochfest between the two (I’ve done that elsewhere) so if you can stomach the idea that I will reference the ship in places you’ll be able to read this fic. 
> 
> Some of the force related stuff in this fic is totally made up but a good portion of it isn't. Feel free to ask if you're not sure what is and isn't total bunk. Or guess, that's fun, too. There isn't much of a plot to this. I wanted to be able to let characters interact and see what happened without drastically changing the timeline and tempting myself into a sequel fic. As a result, a lot of this is based on speculation and rumors surrounding The Rise of Skywalker. (Also, this was written before TRoS teaser trailer dropped and I didn't change anything to fit to what it looks like the plot could be. So we'll see how it shakes out.) Yeah, that stupid duck mask helmet repair job with red super glue was leaked before the trailer. (I have feelings about it, lol.) 
> 
> Anyway, if you think this fic sounds fun, please enjoy. Also, let the artist know how you feel about the badass art! Seriously, I died when I saw it. 
> 
> Special thanks to Bees for the killer art and Tori for talking me out of my dramatic urges to just give up and not write this fic.

_“A plan is only as good as those who see it through.” - Star Wars: The Clon_ e _Wars  1x04 “Destroy Malevolence”_

 

Sam Winchester has been to probably a thousand bars all across the United States and while there is a lot of variety, there are some constants he finds almost comforting. Every bar smells like an ashtray, whether they allow smoking or not. Every bar has too much gum and god knows what else stuck to the underside of the stools and tables. Every bar has hot wings. Every bar’s men’s room has at least one person doing drugs off the urinals and the faint smell of urine and vomit. All bars are different, but all bars are the same.

This bar is nothing like any bar Sam’s ever been to.

It’s dark like most bars are, filling quickly with patrons by the table-full. There are cups of what Sam presumes is alcohol being carried on silver trays, spilled, and chugged all over the place. And there’s a bartender, standing behind the bar, looking as gruff and irritable as any Sam’s ever seen. But the scent is all wrong; it smells like burning plastic and homebrewed beer. The shape of the walls are different, too, with large arches and a round ceiling, and large half-circle windows far above Sam’s head. There’s no TV in the place, just a projection of some game Sam couldn’t even begin to hope to follow.

Oh, and there’s the fact that Sam is one of maybe a dozen humans in the place.

Sam tries not to stare at the creatures - the aliens - that mill about around him, carrying on like there’s nothing unusual in the world. Which, yeah, there’s nothing unusual about a… pig-nosed latex vampire looking thing hanging out with a blue woman with tentacles on her head. Why would that be anything but normal?

“You doin’ okay, Sammy?” Dean asks, bumping him with his shoulder.

“Nope,” he says.

Dean snorts. “Just act normal. We got this.”

Sam nods along and follows as Dean marches right up to the bar and orders two Corellian whiskeys like he knows what the hell he’s doing. Their bartender, an orange man with… well, Sam’s not sure if those are appendages or hair on his head… or if it even matters, really, passes them over with a frown.

Sam just takes a moment to hold the glass. It’s a normal shot glass. The whiskey looks like normal whiskey. It smells fine. He tosses it back and instantly regrets it. It burns all the way down and tastes like gasoline smells. “Fuck,” Sam chokes out, batting at Dean’s arm, “do not drink that.”

Dean does not listen, tossing the shot back and sputtering and coughing immediately. “What the fuck is that?” He asks. He sounds like he’s just swallowed a mouthful of glass, which is about what that it feels like, too.

“You’re the one who ordered it,” Sam grumbles.

“Fuck, okay, new plan - don’t drink anything,” Dean says.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Great. What about the rest of it?”

Dean sighs, looking around the bar like he’ll find answers. They’re being watched by nearly everyone inside, though Sam can see why. The two of them are wearing jeans and flannel in the middle of a cantina where there isn’t a scrap of denim in sight. They must look like circus acts.

“Well first thing’s first, we need money,” Dean says, “we’re going to have to hustle.”

“Hustle what? It’s not like they have pool here.”

“There’s a card game. Sabacc.”

“Do you know how to play sabacc?” Sam asks.

Dean throws his hands up, “no! But I don’t have any better ideas!” His voice is definitely a higher pitch than it has been in years. It’s more surprising than it really ought to be.

The cantina patrons turn their heads, drawing their attention away from Sam and Dean and back to the door. They both turn at the same time, watching as Cas comes through the doors, unbothered by all the eyes on him.

“I’m gonna go talk to Cas,” Dean says, “see what he’s found out. You…” Dean puffs his lips the way he does when he’s at a loss for words.

“I could… see if anyone needs work? There’s gotta be someone around here who needs… something.” Pickpocketing is out of the question. There are way too many eyes on both him and Dean to pull that off. The only other thing they can do for money right now is some kind of mercenary work, maybe. It is sort of in their wheelhouse, after all.

“Yeah, that could work,” Dean says, slapping his brother on the shoulder before heading towards Cas.

Sam takes a deep breath, looking around and hoping that someone sticks out like they need something. This probably isn’t that kind of place, though. It’s definitely not as seedy as the one in _A New Hope_. Most of the patrons seem content to chat with each other in their own languages and to drink and flirt. They look like regular people - or not really regular but not like they’re on the lookout for a hitman. Well, all but one. In the back of the cantina, a shadowy figure sits alone, nursing some noxious looking red drink. They’re shrouded in black, a hood pulled down over their face. Sam can’t even tell if they’re human or not, but it’s really the only chance he’s got right now. He strides over, hands in his pockets like he’s completely in control of the situation.

“This spot taken?” He asks when he approaches.

The stranger shrugs. Sam sits down, not directly across from them, but close enough.

Sam clears his throat, gathering his thoughts. He needs to be careful about this. The last thing he wants is a hole in his chest.

“Waiting for someone?” Sam asks.

The figure doesn’t respond.

“Most of the time people who hang out on their own in the back of seedy bars are waiting for someone,” Sam says.

Again, the figure says nothing.

“My brother and I, we’re mercenaries of a sort,” as Sam speaks the figure sits up a little straighter. Their face is still hidden by the hood, but the outline of a distinctly human nose peaks through the shadow. “We’d be happy to take care of whoever you’re waiting for. For a price.”

The figure huffs a single, dark sigh. “Not interested,” he, Sam assumes he’s a he based on the deep echo of his voice, says.

“You sure? Because you don’t look like the kind of guy who’s just here to be here.”

“You will turn around, leave, and forget you ever saw me,” the man says in an eerie monotone.

The back of Sam’s skull tingles his mind fogged briefly like he’s taken too much cold medicine. As quickly as it sets in, it’s gone.

“What was that?” Sam mutters, rubbing the base of his skull.

The stranger tries again, more insistent this time. “You will leave and you will forget you ever saw me,” he says again.

The tingling and the brain fog returns, but only for an instant. “Did you - was that a mind trick?” Sam asks.

“What would you know about mind tricks?” The stranger asks.

“Well for one, they only work on the weak-willed so you’re out of luck there,” Sam says. “Wait a minute, if you have the force that means… are you a Sith Lord?”

The stranger scoffs. “The Sith are dead, as all bygone religions of a bygone age should be.”

Sam frowns, chewing the inside of his bottom lip. Not a Sith despite the get up then, but probably not a Jedi either. Definitely trained in some Jedi arts though. Which means…

“Oh holy shit,” Sam says, “you’re -”

“No one,” the stranger says.

“My favorite,” Sam finishes.

“Excuse me?” He sounds legitimately thrown off by that, and Sam can’t really say as he blames him. He’s been in this exact situation before after all.

Sam leans in a little closer, keeping his voice hushed. “Oh boy,” Sam mutters, “I’m not sure how to explain this without it sounding a little crazy. I - where my brother and I are from, we have this entertainment and your life is kind of part of it. Well not just yours, your whole family’s, but you were always my favorite. Because I relate, you know.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No. No, definitely not. Don’t worry, I know this is probably the weirdest thing you’ve ever encountered, but I’ve been there, too. I’m a fictional character where I’m from, too.”

“You don’t have the plague, do you?” He scoots his chair back several inches.

Sam laughs. “No. I know it’s a lot to take in but Ben, can I call you Ben or do you prefer Kylo - ”

“How do you know that,” his voice becomes deadly serious and Sam can feel the heavy, frantic energy rising in the air. “No one knows that name. It was forbidden.”

“I told you. I’ve seen your life. Well, up until this point. I know who you are. I know what’s happened to you.”

“You don’t.”

“I do. And I know what it feels like.”

“You couldn’t possibly understand.”

Sam takes a deep breath, “it’s a very long and complicated story.”

Ben tips the hood off, finally revealing his face. He’s a lot more intimidating in person, but also a lot sadder. There are dark circles resting under his eyes and his skin is so pale he almost looks sick. But there’s no mistaking who he is. At least not for Sam. “Who sent you?” He asks.

“No one sent me,” Sam says.

“Then why are you here? You call yourself a mercenary but you couldn’t draw more attention to yourself if you tried. I doubt you’d actually kill anyone, provided I gave you a target. So what game are you playing?”

Sam lets his shoulders drop. “I don’t know why I’m here. My brother and I, we’re just trying to get some money together. We - I’m not sure how it happened but we were transported away from our homeworld and in the process, we were separated from our son. We’re just trying to find a way to get back to him and get home.”

A waitress passes by the table and Ben signals for another drink. Sam’s apprehensive about it, but it would be rude not to accept. The waitress sets the same kind of neon red liquid in front of Sam, and he hesitantly takes a sip. It’s surprisingly sweet but there’s a strange aftertaste that’s almost like peppermint toothpaste.

“What planet?” Ben asks. He finishes the half glass of his own red liquor like it’s nothing before moving on to the fresh one.

“Earth.”

“Is that in the unknown regions?”

“It’s in another galaxy.”

“How?”

“Best guess is some kind of magic. One minute we were sitting in the movie room and then next we were standing on some street corner who knows where.”

“You’re a witch then?”

“Well I guess that’s one word for it,” Sam says.

Ben sighs, taking another large drink from the glass in front of him. “So you’re a witch from Earth which is a planet in a completely different galaxy and you were planning on doing mercenary work to get money so you could find your son and then get home. Oh, and you claim to know everything about me. Is that about right?”

“It sounds a little crazy when you put it like that, I know. -”

“The truly crazy thing is that you expect me to believe you,” Ben says.

Sam sighs, “you know, that’s fair. Sorry for just -” Sam flaps his arms, “dumping all that in your lap.”

Ben doesn’t say anything. He only stares. There’s a sharp tingling behind Sam’s eyes and it feels like the beginning of a migraine.

“You… die a lot,” Ben says.

Sam laughs, trying not to wince. Now that he’s aware Ben is rifling through his memories, he’s more conscious of what he’s thinking about, and as a result, it takes more work to push through the thoughts and into the good stuff. Mind probes are not pleasant.

“Is your species prone to dying and resuscitating this much?” Ben leans in closer as he speaks.

Sam laughs. “I’m human.”

Ben raises an eyebrow. “Except when you’re not.”

“Fair enough.”

The curious look starts to slip from Ben’s face as he gets closer. “You’re a Force user?”

“No, not exactly,” Sam says, “it’s not the same in our world. It’s not… a good thing to have those kinds of powers. And not at the price I was paying.”

“And you gave them up?”

“They weren’t helping me be who I wanted to be. Who I am.”

“You have so much faith in people, though they disappoint you again and again. Your father. Your mother. Dean. Castiel. Every person who refused to be saved.”

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with believing in the good in people.”

“You have to,” Ben says, “if you don't, you worry you yourself are unworthy of saving. Unworthy of love.”

Sam squirms in his seat. This is...unnerving to say the least. “Yes,” he swallows. Ben has gotten much closer now, hovering right in Sam’s personal space, dark eyes boring into his soul. “I wasn’t always a good person.” The buzzing in his head ceases.

“You always believed there was something wrong with you.”

“And I guess I just believed that, when I was told there was no other way, that it was destiny, a part of me believed it.”

“Because everyone else already believed you were a monster, and if everyone believed it, maybe you were.”

Sam’s nervous half-smile slips. “You got all of that from a few minutes in my head?”

“Some of it was assumed. From experience.”

“I told you, I know what it’s like to be targeted for something evil and to feel like a freak.”

Ben sits back down in his seat, but his demeanor has completely changed. He’s much less stiff and he’s not looking at Sam like he expects to be attacked. He’s still sort of stiff, however.

“Tell me about your son.”

* * *

 

“Jack’s with the what now?” Dean asks.

Castiel sighs, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. It’s been a long, stressful day and the sooner it’s over the better it will be for everyone. “The Resistance. On Batuu.”

“Shhh,” Dean hisses. “Keep your voice down!”

“Right,” Castiel says, “sorry.”

“How are they treating him? He’s safe right?”

“They’ve accepted him for the time being, though they’re astounded by his lack of basic skills. But he’s not in any immediate danger.”

“Good,” Dean says, scrubbing a hand down his mouth, “that’s good.”

Around them, speeders zip and weave through the air, like fish through turbulent water. Castiel isn’t quite sure what planet they wound up on, but he has a feeling it might be one of the more industrial planets if the thick haze that blurs the city lights and dark shapes of First Order ships lingering overhead are anything to go by. The denizens, too, look more grizzled and worn than what he’d expect from a planet less focused on manufacturing. Either way, it might not be that difficult to find work here.

“Right, so,” Dean says, “we need to get money and transport off the planet. Sam’s inside the bar scoping folks out.”

“And if he doesn’t find anyone?” Castiel asks.

Dean shakes his head. “I don’t know. Any ideas?”

“We could get actual jobs.”

“That’s going to be a nightmare. How long would it take for three men to buy a ship?”

“I have no idea.”

“Fuck,” Dean grumbles. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, as he tips his head towards the sky. “This is insane!” He shouts.

“What about magic? We could look into what kinds of magic are practiced around here.”

“It’s all The Force, Cas. They don’t have magic.”

“Yes, they do. The Nightsisters were witches.”

“So how do we find them?”

“They’re all dead.”

“That’s fucking fantastic,” Dean growls. He’s pacing up and down the sidewalk now, biting his knuckles. It’s a behavior that Castiel hasn’t seen Dean display in years. He’s terrified, Castiel knows, but there isn’t a lot he can do to help.

Their options are limited and even then they’re not even sure how they wound up here. It was a movie night, and Sam and Dean were arguing over what they were going to watch, again, when Jack showed up with an unlabeled VHS. The fact that it was a VHS tape should’ve been their first clue not to touch it, in retrospect. Dean kept his DVDs under his bed and Sam had digital copies of almost everything. But how was Jack supposed to know that?

“We should check on Sam,” Castiel says, putting his hand on Dean’s arm. Dean stills, taking a deep breath.

“Yeah, okay. Maybe he’s had some luck.”

The walk back into the bar, side by side, and this time not drawing as much attention as they had before. Castiel has never cared about fitting in with humans, but even he has to admit that he sticks out here. They haven’t invented jeans yet in this universe, apparently.

Dean nudges Castiel’s shoulder and points to a table in the back, where Sam is sitting, leaning over the table and talking with another man. Between the two of them, there two empty glasses and two more at least half-full with some bright red concoction.

“Looks like he’s had luck,” Castiel says.

Dean gestures for Castiel to follow and he does. Dean puffs his chest and sways a little more as he walks, gliding through the bar with ease. It’s an act, Castiel knows, but it’s one that Dean wears well after all those years of practice. That is until they get right up to the table and Dean goes rigid.

“Sam,” he hisses.

Both men turn to look at Dean. Sam’s cheeks are a little flushed though he doesn’t look drunk. Perhaps a little tipsy, but not drunk. The other, Castiel recognizes immediately as Kylo Ren.

“Heya, Dean,” Sam says, scooting his chair over. “Have a seat.” He gestures to Dean, “these are the guys I was telling you about.”

“Sam,” Dean says through his teeth. “A word?”

“What? What happened? Is Jack okay?”

“Jack’s fine,” Castiel says. “He’s with… he’s safe.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t contact your son,” Kylo Ren says, eyeing Sam.

“Well, it’s kinda - “ Sam starts.

“None of your fucking business,” Dean finishes.

Kylo Ren says nothing, though the way he sits back, eyes drifting between Sam and Dean says all Castiel needs to know.

“Dean!” Sam hisses. “That’s rude!”

“I don’t care. Come on Sam, we’re leaving.”

“Like Hell I am,” Sam says. “And you’re not either because I just solved our problems.”

Dean snorts. “Oh yeah, you sure solved it alright. How does talking to this wannabe Sith Lord, Jedi washout, lunatic help us again?”

Sam turns back to Kylo Ren, who’s still quiet. “I’m sorry,” he says. “My brother is an asshole.” He says the last part looking right at Dean.

“Look, Sam, fanboy nerd hour is over. Let’s go. Now.”

“No.”

The way Castiel sees it, there are only three reliable ways this is going to go. One, Sam and Dean will continue to yell and one will start swinging at the other. Then, they get kicked out. Two, they’re going to keep yelling, they’ll get kicked out first, and then one of them will storm off. Three, one of them is going to get shot under the table.

None of those options bring them closer to getting Jack, or to finding a way to get home.

“Would you two knock it off!” Castiel snaps. “Now is not the time.”

“But Cas, he’s -” Dean gestures to their still silent companion.

“I know, Dean. I’ve seen the movies at least thirteen times.” Castiel shakes his head. The crap he’s had to put up with with these two.

“Sam, you said you had a solution to our problems?” Castiel prompts.

“Thank you,” Sam says. “Ben has an idea regarding how we might be able to get back home.” He gestures to the seat next to him.

Dean snorts. “This should be good.” He locks eyes with Kylo Ren, and for an absurdly long amount of time, they just stay like that. Apparently, human males are the same throughout the universe and have to prove they’re a bigger threat than anyone else.

“Dean, we don’t have time for this,” Castiel says.

Dean sits, never once breaking eye contact. “Spill.”

“First,” Kylo Ren says, “how does he know where your son is,” he points right at Castiel as he speaks.

“I’m an angel and Jack is a nephil. We can hear prayers if they’re addressed to us, so that’s how Jack let me know where he was,” Castiel says.

“It’s a psychic bond then?” Kylo Ren asks.

“That’s not -” Castiel starts.

“Close enough, yes,” Sam says.

“Then half your problems are solved,” Kylo Ren says. “But getting you out of this galaxy is going to be another matter.” He takes a large swallow of the red drink in front of him.

“We guessed that,” Dean says.

“Did you?” Kylo Ren says. His tone is flat and his face barely betrays the sassy smirk he’s holding back.

“Yeah,” Dean sneers. “What’s the plan smartass?” He leans over the table, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“There are rumors,” Kylo Ren says, “of portals open to all of time and space. If you find one, you could get anywhere in the universe. Theoretically.”

“Rumors and theories? Really? That’s what you’ve got.”

“Let’s hear what you have then.”

Castiel rests his hand on Dean’s shoulder, squeezing once. Dean doesn’t relax, but he does recline in his seat. “These portals,” Castiel says, “where did you hear about them?”

“Archives of the Empire,” Kylo Ren says.

“And we’re trusting them? Those losers? That’s even worse than trusting this loser,” Dean says, gesturing to Kylo Ren.

“Dean!” Sam snaps.

“Does that make you feel better? Lashing out at other people when you’re afraid?” Kylo Ren tosses back at Dean.

Dean makes a move to stand, but Castiel shoves him back down.

“What else do you know about these portals?” Castiel asks.

“Not much else is known,” he says, “though they tend to be associated with Jedi temples.”

“Cool,” Dean says, “thanks for the info. Have a nice life.” He moves to leave and again, Castiel has to shove him back down. Again.

Castiel isn’t sure, but he thinks Jack has mentioned something similar to this during one of his long discussions about Star Wars. He’s watched all the cartoons and read stacks of comics, so it’s plausible what Kylo Ren is saying is truthful. Castiel just wishes he’d paid better attention and could actually verify it as fact.

“Is there any possibility you know where there are Jedi temples that might have these portals?” Castiel asks.

“It’s a possibility.”

“Would you be willing to share that knowledge?”

“No.”

“Of fucking course,” Dean says.

“You couldn’t access half of them on your own anyway,” Kylo Ren says. “Just knowing the information is useless if you can’t act on it.”

“We’d need a Force wielder,” Sam says.

An uneasy silence settles over the table. Castiel can feel Dean’s anger rising off him in waves of heat. “And there are how many of those in the galaxy currently?” Dean asks, his tone clipped.

“Maybe a handful. But -” Sam’s voice is calm and even, the way he speaks when he talks to witnesses. Castiel knows what’s coming. He just hopes Dean does, too. “Ben already knows where the temples are.”

Dean ducks his head, shaking it from side to side. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, Dean. This is our best shot regardless,” Sam says.

“So what are you gonna do, take a vacation in the middle of the war?” Dean asks, looking right at Kylo Ren.

“Well,” Sam says, “that’s the part you’re really not going to like.”

Dean turns to face Sam, jaw clenched tight.

“I’m going to stand in for him.”

“You’re going to what?”

“We’re about the same height, same build. We don’t look exactly alike but no one would know from a distance.”

“You want to go undercover as the most hated man in the galaxy, during a war? Sam, we’ve done some stupid shit before but this…” Dean laughs, “this is the fucking cherry.”

“It’s the only chance we have,” Sam says.

Castiel looks down at both brothers. Sam is right, they don’t really have any other options. But, at the same time, they aren’t sure if they can trust this one, either. For one, Castiel does not like the idea of Sam being alone in the belly of the beast. He also doesn’t know if Kylo Ren is trustworthy or not. Yes, he’s seen the films, and he does believe the man has a record of honesty in the past, but there’s always a chance. There’s always the chance that whatever lost child that lives inside Kylo Ren has died, and his life was meant to be a tragedy.

“I don’t feel comfortable with you going undercover alone, Sam,” Castiel says.

“Thank you!” Dean says.

“But you are right, this is the best we’ve got right now.”

Dean starts to object, but Castiel cuts him off. “That’s why I’m going with you,” he says.

“Has everyone gone insane?” Dean asks. “Is the crap they’re selling in this bar crazy juice?”

“Dean, it’s the best way. Sam is going to be vulnerable and neither of us wants him to be alone in this. He can’t sense intention or read minds but I can. He’ll be safer. Not free from danger, but safer.”

Dean huffs. “Why are you helping us? What’s in it for you?” He asks, looking at Kylo Ren.

Kylo Ren looks over at Sam, then at Dean. “Sam asked.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“That’s bullshit,” Dean mutters. He sighs. “So we’re really doing this, huh?”

Sam and Castiel both nod.

“Well, I have some conditions. I get the blaster, not him. And you two need to check in every day. And,” he points at Kylo Ren, “you lay a finger on me, I kill you.”

“Likewise,” Kylo Ren says.

* * *

 

Ben’s command shuttle is cramped. Sam’s not sure what he really imagined, but he did assume it would have more room for four, full-grown men.

“Your quarters are on the lowest level, midship, number 07. There are meetings on the third day of every cycle, two on the last of the month. Hux spits when he gets animated. I’d sit further back, if I were you,” Ben says, handing Sam the mountain of black clothes he’s going to be wearing for the foreseeable future.

“Keep the helmet on and no one will know who you are,” he says, topping the pile off with what used to be Kylo Ren’s helmet, fused back together in a chaotic spider web of red solder.

Sam nods. “Thank you, Ben.” He smiles.

Ben licks his lips and ducks his head, quickly focusing on something else.

“One more thing,” he says, opening a compartment hidden under one of the seats.

“No way,” Sam gasps.

Ben presents his lightsaber, setting it on top of the pile. “In case you need it.”

Sam’s a little flabbergasted. Not only does he get to hold a real lightsaber, but it’s the coolest one to boot. And, of course, there’s the reality of what it means for anyone to give up a lightsaber.

Sam swallows and clears his throat. “Don’t let Dean get to you. He gets angry when he’s scared and he’s going to be terrified until we’re all back together.”

Ben nods. “I won’t hurt him.”

“I know,” Sam says. He really wants to give him a hug, just once, but this mountain of stuff is in the way. As Ben turns to meet Dean at the bottom of the ramp, Sam does the only thing he can think of to convey what this means to him.

“Hey, Ben. May the Force be with you.”

 


	2. Jack

_“The future has many paths - choose wisely.” The Clone Wars 3x07 Assassin_

It’s not the first time Jack’s been lost in the woods and something tells him this won’t be the last either. It’s a lovely woods, though, with giant trees that twist in curls as they climb towards the sky. There are worse places to be.

Though, he's not sure where he is, exactly. The last thing he remembers is arguing about movie night. Dean wanted to watch _Lost Boys_ … again. But Jack had found something in the movie room, stuck behind the bookcase. It was the shape of a book but I had a movie cover, and Jack was showing it to Cas when a huge flash of light blinded them all. And now he's in the woods.

“Dean?” Jack calls out, “Sam? Cas? Where are you guys?”

The songbirds are the only ones who answer.

“Is anyone out here?” Jack calls out.

Nothing.

Jack makes his way through the woods for a while, listening for any voices or footfalls, familiar or otherwise. What he does hear, however, is the hollow tearing of a plane slicing through the air. Jack looks up, finding what looks like a small plane above the trees. It's hard to make out exactly where it is or how far up it is, given the canopy of trees, but there's just enough for Jack to follow its color with his eyes.

The plane zooms through the air, off to Jack's left, so he follows it. If there's a plane there must be people here.

It takes Jack a while to trudge through to the end of the woods. The plane had long since vanished, and he was moving purely by guesswork. But, when he steps out onto the dirt path, he's glad for the effort. There’s a large military hanger not too far away, and a strip of tarmac with what can only be an X-wing sitting right on it.

“Woah,” Jack mutters to himself. He must be at Disneyland.

Jack walks forward, across the tarmac at an easy pace. There are people milling about around the hangar, all dressed in various Resistance costumes, and as soon as Jack comes within line of sight they all stare.

“Hey,” a large man with a beard steps out from behind an X-wing, “who are you?”

“I’m Jack,” Jack says, as he keeps walking towards the hangar.

The bearded man and an Ithorian step out from behind different ships and stand in front of Jack, blocking his path.

“Where did you come from?” The bearded man asks.

“The forest.”

“Before that?”

“Kansas.”

The bearded man looks over at the Ithorian, who’s neck stays eerily still as he shrugs his shoulders.  

“Is that in the Unknown Regions?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

A few more Resistance members have drifted closer, most of them eyeing Jack suspiciously and hovering around their ships.

“Did you mean Arkanis?”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s just Kansas.”

The Ithorian garbles something. The bearded man nods and says something in a language Jack can’t catch before the Ithorian walks off.

“Are you lost, Jack?”

“Well, I don’t know where I am, exactly. I assumed Disneyland but I’m starting to doubt that. Also, I don’t know where my dads are. So, yes, I would say I’m lost.”

“Okay… Well, we can try to help you find your dads if you want. Where was the last place you saw them?”

“We were in the movie room. Castiel was sitting in the recliner, and Sam and Dean were arguing by the foosball table.”

“In your… in your ship?”

“No,” Jack says shaking his head, “in the bunker.”

A movement to the right catches Jack’s attention and he almost can’t believe what he’s seeing. Walking out from behind the hangar, flanked by the Ithorian and who’s probably Poe, is the unmistakable Princess Leia.

Jack lets out a high pitched gasp. “That’s Princess Leia!”

“General Leia, actually,” the bearded man says, turning his head towards where Jack’s eyes stay focused.

She’s walking slower than she had before, supporting herself with a gold-handled cane. The silver halo of her hair and her blue dress remind Jack of some of the depictions of angels he’s seen in the lore books, but as she gets closer all Jack can see is how tired she looks. She stands as tall and proud as her limitations will allow, and her lips are drawn into a stern but not intimidating line but her eyes… her eyes betray her. They’re partially bloodshot, maybe from lack of sleep and the bags below them are heavy and gray, despite the fact that she’s wearing make-up.

“What do we have here, Wesley?” Leia asks. Her husky voice cracks on the last syllable.

“He’s lost,” the bearded man, Wesley, says.

“All the way out here?” Leia asks, eyeing him up and down. There’s a sharp edge to the way she’s looking at him like she’s trying to dissect him for any lies or fear.

“Apparently,” Jack says.

“What’s your name?” Leia asks.

“I’m Jack. Jack Kline.”

“Do you know where you are Jack?” She asks.

“No,” he says.

“Are you alone?”

“I - I was with my dads but they’re not -” Jack cuts himself off, realizing for the first time that he actually has no idea what’s happened to Sam, Dean, and Castiel. They could still be out in the forest, completely lost or hurt. Is he really that far from home? Is he really out here in the middle of the Star Wars universe? Or they could be back in Kansas or off on some other planet for all he knew.

“I - I don’t -” Jack wraps his arms around himself, suddenly very afraid.

“It’s alright,” Leia says, putting her hand on his arm and offering a comforting squeeze. “You’re going to be alright, Jack.”

Leia turns to Wesley and says: “You and Jessika should sweep the forest for wreckage,” she says.

“Do you know where you were headed?” Leia asks Jack.

“We weren’t headed anywhere. We were at home and then suddenly I was in a forest. I don’t understand.”

Leia gets that sharp look in her eyes again. “Why don’t you come inside with us?” Maybe you’ll remember better once you see our doctor.”

“I - okay,” Jack says.

Poe frowns, his brow creasing as he does. “General?”

“Trust me.”

Poe doesn’t seem too happy about letting Jack inside, but he does what he’s told anyway. Jack is then lead into the bunker, flanked by Leia and Poe as they walk through the building, down a corridor and through a door that looks exactly like all the rest. This one though is lined with cots and equipment Jack couldn’t even begin to identify.

Leia nods to Poe and Poe takes Jack off towards one of the cots. The doctor approaches, or at least she looks like a doctor and speaks with Leia for a moment. Jack doesn’t hear all they say to each other, but he does hear Leia mention brain rot.

Jack sits down on the cot as Poe stands at the foot of it, doing his best to not be obvious about how he’s still looking at Leia.

“So where did you say you were from again, kid?” Poe asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Kansas.”

“Arka-”

“No, Kansas.”

“I’ve never heard of that planet.”

“It’s not a planet, it’s a state. Earth is the planet.”

“Never heard of that either,” Poe says. “Is that in the outer rim?”

Jack frowns. “I don’t think so.”

The doctor walks up then with a pleasant smile on her face. “You must be Jack,” she says.

Jack nods.

They get the basics out of the way first. Or, at least they try to. The doctor has never heard of a Nephil before, but he supposes that’s not too uncommon. Most people haven’t. She gives him a strange look when he tells her he’s 18 months old and an even stranger look when she asks him to read the eye chart and he can’t. She takes a little of his blood, assuring him that it’s, unfortunately, necessary to test for the things she needs to test for, and walks off, leaving Jack alone with Poe.

“You really can’t read Aurebesh?” Poe asks.

“No. Dean says it’s nerdy and I should focus on learning real languages first.”

“So what can you read?”

“English, Enochian, and I’m working on Latin.”

Poe tilts his head, half looking up at the ceiling. “Are those Earth languages?”

“Yes,” Jack says.

“Well, at least you speak Basic.”

The doctor comes back, brandishing what looks like a grocery receipt and a frown. “Well, you don’t have any diseases as far as I can tell. Maybe a touch of anemia but I can’t know for sure until I know more about your species.”

Jack looks over to Poe, who’s chewing on his thumbnail as the doctor continues to speak. “No concussion so that’s good. As far as I can tell, you’re perfectly healthy.”

“Good,” Poe says, “that’s good news.” He slaps Jack on the shoulder enough that it jostles him just a little. “So we’re all clear?”

“All clear from me,” the doctor says.

Poe claps his hands together, then gestures for Jack to stand. “You can come with me now,” he says.

Jack follows Poe out of the medbay and down through more beaten up hallways. The place is old with rust and tarnish on most of the metal around them. It must’ve been abandoned for years before the Resistance got their hands on it.

“Where are we going?” Jack asks as Poe leads him out of the hangar and into a field.

“We’re gonna make a pit stop before I show you to your bunk,” he says.

“What kind of pit stop?”

“We’re gonna see a friend.”

“Finn? Because Finn’s my favorite.” Poe spins around on his heels. “Oh! No offense, I like you, too,” Jack says.

“How do you know Finn?” Poe asks.

“I’ve seen your movies,” Jack says. “Dean says they’re not as good as the original but I like them. The effects are better.”

“Okay, hang on a second. Movies? What are you talking about?” Poe asks. He takes a step towards Jack, hand on his hip.

“Yes, movies. They’re like books but with pictures and you don’t have to read them yourself.”

“I know what a movie is,” Poe says, swatting the air. “What I don’t know is why there are holofilms about us. Is it some kind of First Order propaganda?”

“What’s propaganda?”

Poe sighs, taking in a deep breath and squaring his shoulders. “Do they make the First Order look good and the Resistance look bad?”

“Oh, no. The First Order doesn’t look good at all.”

“Okay,” Poe nods. “So where did you see these?”

“In the movie room back home. Sam has the blu-ray. But I saw The Last Jedi in the theater.”

“The last….” Poe’s voice trails off as he looks off into the distance. He licks his lips, shaking his head. “Yeah, that doesn’t make any sense.” Poe turns around again, takes one step and then stops. “Hey, Jack?”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you come up here. You don’t have to lag behind.”

Jack rushes up the few steps it takes to get even with Poe and the two make their way down the hill and towards the Millennium Falcon.

“We’re going to see Rey?” Jack asks. “She’s my favorite.”

“I thought you said Finn was your favorite.”

“I can have lots of favorites.”

Poe doesn’t say anything until they make their way to the open ramp of the Falcon, but even then he still doesn’t talk to Jack. Instead, he’s knocking his knuckles against the metal and calling out for Rey.

She looks… not like what Jack expected when she rushes out of the depths of the ship. Her hair is up but falling out all over. She’s not wearing anything more than a plain white shirt and capri pants, and she looks like she’d been sleeping not five minutes before.

“What? Another meeting?” She asks, tucking a few loose strands behind her ear.

“No, not quite,” Poe says. “I need to ask you for a favor.”

“I already told Rose, I can’t help with the B-wings this week. I’ve got too much to do.”

“No, not that,” Poe says, swinging his arm around Jack’s shoulder. “This is Jack,” Poe says.

Jack waves. Rey does not wave back.

“Hi?”

“Jack here is a little lost. He’s just showed up in the forest and we’re wondering if you could help us find his dads.”

Rey sighs. “You can’t send a search party?”

“Well, we could, but Jack’s memory is a little -” Poe waggles his hand back and forth.

“No, it’s not,” Jack protests.

“He’s a little confused,” Poe says. “But if you could -” Poe taps a finger against his temple, “that would be really helpful.”

“No!” Rey snaps. “Absolutely not.”

“Rey -”

“Don’t you start, Dameron. Ask him yourself or try some memory recall techniques.”

“Rey, he showed up in the forest. Out here.”

“So?”

“Jack, why don’t you tell her what you told me about those movies?” Poe asks.

“I’ve seen your movies,” Jack says, “well, two of them. You’re my favorite,” Jack says.

Rey frowns, looking between Poe and Jack. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Where I’m from you’re not real,” Jack says. Both Poe and Rey reel back at that. “You’re a fictional character in a movie bunch of movies. They're called Star Wars and they’re about the fate of the galaxy and the Force and Jedi and lightsabers. It’s fun!”

“He’s mad, isn’t he,” Rey asks, pointing at Jack.

Poe sighs. “Clean bill of health, apparently. So if you could,” Poe shakes his head back and forth, “in case he’s - you know.”

Rey’s brow furrows as she frowns. “No, I don’t know.”

Neither does Jack, and that bothers him. He’s been nothing but honest this whole time. Maybe there’s something Poe’s not telling him. Well, if there’s no other choice, there’s probably no harm in finding out what Poe isn’t telling him.

Jack lets his grace expand, floating, unseen, through the air until it’s gently skimming the edges of Poe’s consciousness. There’s a lot of unimportant stuff floating around in there, like thoughts about food and mental lists of tasks, so Jack skims over all of those.

 _He’s either lost it or he’s a spy pretending to have lost it._ Poe’s been thinking this, or a variation of it, for the past half hour.

 _Something’s fishy here and I don’t like it._ Is another thought that rises to the surface.

_Maybe I can convince Rey to do that mind trick thing. She’ll do it if it’s for the good of the Resistance, right?_

“I’m not a spy,” Jack says.

“No one said you were,” Poe tries to defend.

“No, but you were thinking it. I know. I saw it.”

“You saw what was in his mind?” Rey finally seems a little more interested in the events in front of her.

“Yes,” Jack says.

“Like the Force?” Rey asks.

“Prove it,” Poe says, at the same time.

“Prove it? Why?” Jack asks. “I just did.”

“Anyone could figure that out with context. Prove you can read minds. What am I thinking about right now?” He asks.

So Jack uses his grace to seep in a little deeper. This time he gets fragments more than anything. A flash of an image, half a sentence, and a rush of bittersweet nostalgia. “You’re thinking about a big tree. It’s smaller than the other trees around it, but it’s special to you. It reminds you of your mother.”

“Okay, so you’re legit. Doesn’t mean you’re not a spy,” Poe says.

“But I’m not!”

“Poe, I don’t think he’s a spy,” Rey says.

“Did you do your -” Poe wiggles his fingers in the air.

Rey rolls her eyes. “No. But he doesn’t look the type. He’s not exactly a hardened warrior by the looks of it.”

“Still -”

“If you’re that worried about it, give him a guardian,” Rey says.

Poe’s eyes widen and a smile lights up his face for the first time all day. “That’s a great idea, Rey,” he says, “and thank you for volunteering.”

“I didn’t -”

“This way, if he does have the Force you can teach him.”

“I can’t -”

“It’d be good to have another Jedi on our side.”

“But -”

Poe isn’t listening. Instead, he hollers his thanks and walks right back up the hill while Rey gapes after him.

Jack doesn’t say anything for a while and neither does Rey. She just looks at him with a soft frown on her lips. Maybe she doesn’t know what to do next. She isn't all that familiar with how to interact with people, and Jack knows how confusing that can be.

“I’m Jack,” he says.

“So you are.”

“I think this is the part where you’re supposed to invite me inside and we can talk about the Force and stuff.”

Rey shakes her head. “Alright. Come in, but don’t touch anything. The porgs are nesting and they get angry when their piles are messed with.”

Jack follows Rey into the ship, looking but not finding any porgs. They must be hiding further in the ship, or maybe even in the walls. That seems dangerous to Jack, but if Rey isn’t worried it’s probably alright.

As she walks ahead, Rey pulls her hair down and combs through it with her fingers. She doesn’t bother putting it back up.

She’s not saying anything, so Jack lets his eyes wander over the interior of the ship. It’s… well, he’s always wondered why everyone seemed to think the Falcon was a piece of junk. He doesn’t anymore. It’s dirty and dusty and there are open panels and exposed wires in several places. On top of that, the lights above flicker like that one gas station in Ohio Dean wouldn’t let Jack use the bathroom in.

**_Jack!_ **

Jack suddenly gets the echoes of Castiel’s voice, loud and clear in his head.

**_Jack, if you can hear me, please respond. We’re alright. I’m with Sam and Dean but we seem to be separated from you. Where are you? We’ll come get you._ **

Jack frowns but starts a silent prayer of his own.

_Castiel, I’m with the Resistance. I walked out of the woods. Where are you guys?_

**_There are no woods here. We’re in a city._ **

Jack frowns. They must’ve gotten further away from each other than he thought.

“Rey, where are we?” Jack asks.

She ducks her head out from one of the few rooms in the Falcon, thankfully not too far away that she can’t hear him.

“Batuu? Didn’t you know that?”

Jack shakes his head.

_Castiel, we’re on Batuu. I don’t know where that is, but I haven’t seen any cities. But I’m safe so don’t worry about me._

Rey’s still looking at him, the creases in her brow deepening the longer she does.

“What are you doing?” She asks.

“Talking to my father. He wanted to know where I was. There aren’t any cities around here, are there?”

“No, not as far as I’m aware. The planet is mostly abandoned.”

“Okay. So they’re not here. But that’s okay. They’ll probably come find me.”

“You shouldn’t be doing that. You can’t give away our location.”

“It’s okay,” Jack says, “they’re the good guys. They won’t tell anyone.”

Rey is still looking at him like she’s either ready to run or hit him over the head with something. But that’s not right. It’s not the way it should be. He’s one of the good guys and she can trust him. He can help them.

“I promise I’m one of the good guys,” Jack says.

“We’ll see,” Rey says.


	3. Dean and Sam

_ “Choose your enemies wisely, as they may be your last hope.” The Clone Wars 5x09 A Necessary Bond  _

If you’d have asked Dean whether or not he’d want to visit the Star Wars universe about twenty-four hours ago, the answer would have been an unequivocal yes. It’s every kid's dream, after all. Who doesn’t want far off adventures far away with beautiful princesses and laser swords and magic mind powers? No one, that’s who. 

But that was twenty-four hours ago. Now, Dean’s stuck in the co-pilot’s seat of some beater spaceship with the last person he’d ever want to share a cockpit with. 

“Is there a radio on this thing?” Dean asks. He’s getting really sick of staring at hyperspace. It was cool for about the first five minutes but now the weird blue lines are starting to give him a headache. 

“No,” Kylo says. 

“Is there a tape player or -” Dean starts fidgeting with one of the switches under the dash. 

“Stop touching the dampeners unless you want to pull the ship out of hyperspace and wind up smeared against the glass.” 

Dean rolls his eyes but stops messing with the slots and switches. “Is there any way to get music on this ship?” Dean groans.

Kylo actually has the audacity to roll his eyes and tighten his grip on the ship’s wheel. He doesn’t say anything though. 

It’s only been maybe three hours, tops since Dean wound up in this batshit universe. At first, he’d been pretty excited. It’s _Star Wars_ , after all. Who wouldn’t want to live in the universe of their childhood fantasies? But then they couldn’t find Jack and the reality of the situation dawned on him pretty quickly. It’s bad enough they are separated from all their other friends and family, but none of them are actually equipped to live in this universe. They can’t read, they can’t write, and they can’t drive anything. That point was made painfully clear the second Dean had to give up the pilot’s chair to this asshole. 

“Where are we going again?” Dean asks. He’d been told at least once, but he wasn’t listening. 

“Corellia. For the third time,” Kylo says. 

“What’s in Corellia?” 

“Better ships.” 

“You could’ve just taken a better one. You didn’t have to buy this piece of crap.” And honestly, he didn’t. There was a perfectly good looking ship with a really nice blue paint job sitting in the airstrip. But no, Mr. Patricide had to actually buy a ship. You’d think, being the son of a thief and all, he wouldn’t care about that but apparently, he had a thing about it. Weird. 

“If you have a problem with my methods you’re free to come up with your own plans,” Ben says, looking at Dean from the corners of his eyes. 

Dean huffs, sinking lower in his seat. “It would be a lot faster and a lot easier to just snag what we need and get on our way.” 

“And then what? Run and hope we don’t get caught?” 

Dean shakes his head. “What are you scared? Don’t wanna break the rules because you might get caught? Aren’t you the king of the galaxy? I didn’t think a Solo would be such a chickenshit.” 

Ben’s head snaps around and for one awful second Dean’s convinced he’s going to be force choked or thrown against a wall or force…. brain aneurysm-ed or something. “Let’s say we do. Let’s say we steal some ship. What are you going to do when we’re followed out to the edge of the universe by the First Order’s police force and they find you with me who, by the way, is aboard the Axiom as far as they know? What do they think they’ll do to you? What do you think they’ll do to Sam?” 

“Those guys are chumps. They probably wouldn’t even care about a stolen ship.” 

“You seem to forget we’re in a war, fighting a small band of resistors who don’t have very many resources of their own. A pretty blue freighter like the one you had your eye one would make decent transport for weapons and soldiers.” 

“Oh.” Is all Dean can say. He still doesn’t think it would be as big of an issue as Kylo’s making it out to be, but he has a point. No one can know that he’s not where he’s supposed to be. 

Kylo Ren turns back around, ignoring Dean. Dean returns the favor. 

* * *

 

The smell of the planet hits him the moment Dean steps off the ship’s ramp. The air is heavy with sea brine and low-tide, which are bad enough on their own, but the smog and the acrid smell of burning plastic make it all that much worse. 

“I thought everything was supposed to be better in space,” Dean grumbles, nearly tripping over a discarded can on the ground. 

Kylo Ren says nothing in response. Instead, he marches forward, his cloak sweeping dust off the streets as he moves. He’s quick and quiet, like a shadow come to life in the back alleys of this gutter planet. Dean follows behind, just as quick and just as quiet. 

The first thing they do is get something less conspicuous to wear. Or, Kylo does. They’ve found their way to a cluster of buildings, things that were probably apartments at one point, but have been converted into multi-story shops. Dean stays in the alleyways, trying not to draw too much attention to himself. He’s not sure he’d really draw that much attention, given the aliens that slither and scurry across the streets. Still, he was told to stay so he’ll stay. For now, he doesn’t have much of a choice but to pal around with Captain Asshole, at least not until they’ve found whatever the hell it is they need to find. Then Dean can tell him to shove it. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean catches sight of something about the size of a small cat that scurries towards him. He doesn’t even think, he just wheels backward as fast as possible, out of the alley. Of course, he runs right into someone else. He’s in the process of turning around and apologizing when his heart sinks. It’s Kylo, but for one brief and fleeting second Dean was almost certain it was Han instead. 

Instead of being draped from head to toe in black he’s actually dressed like a normal person. Pants, plain shirt, vest, and nothing too eye-catching for anyone else in the world, but Dean can’t help but gawk a little. His father is present in the shape of his face and the soft, almost boyish fullness of his cheeks. Even the pout and the disapproving scowl are echos of the old smuggler. 

It makes Dean want to punch him.

“Watch where you’re going, asshole,” Dean says, shoving away from him. 

“You ran into me,” Kylo says. 

“Whatever,” Dean grumbles. “Tell me you didn’t pick anything butt ugly.” 

“Worse than what you’re wearing now?” He extends shopping bag to Dean. 

“You better watch it,” Dean says, snatching the bag, “Force or no Force I’ll kick your ass.” 

“Are you done posturing now?” Kylo asks looking Dean up and down. “I’d like to get off this planet before the end of the cycle.” 

He starts to walk off and Dean is, once again, left to trail after him. “Aren’t we going to stop somewhere so I can change?” Dean calls out. “I thought the whole point of the clothes was so I didn’t stick out like a sore thumb.” 

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that while you were smarting off,” Kylo snarks back. 

“It’s no wonder you don’t have any friends,” Dean grumbles. 

Kylo stops and levels him a look that could melt stone but he doesn’t say whatever he’s thinking. Instead, he says: “there are ‘freshers in all these buildings. Find one and change.” 

“You gonna leave me here if I do?” 

“It would make my life easier, but no.” 

Dean’s not sure he trusts that, but it’s either this or stick out to everyone and their mother. So Dean ducks into the closest building and makes a B-line for what he hopes is the men’s room. 

The clothes he’s got are simple in theory but stupidly complicated in practice. The pants don’t have zippers and they’re too small to just slip into. It takes him a good five minutes to find the seam of the Velcro-like fastening on the hip. The pants are also just a hair too big, and the belt is one of those that takes two hands to buckle the right way. At least the shirt is normal. It’s also surprisingly soft. 

As Dean makes his way out of the bathroom he rams right into the biggest dude he’s ever seen in his life. He’s at least twice as wide as Dean, if not more than that. He’s also smurf blue and has arms the size of tires. 

“Hey, sorry man,” Dean says, trying to move past the stranger. 

The stranger grabs Dean by the arm, hauling him closer. He, Dean assumes anyway, sputters and spits when he speaks. And of course, he’s not speaking any language Dean could hope to understand. It sounds more like wet clothes hitting concrete than real speech anyway. 

“Sorry, I can’t understand you.” Dean moves to pull away, but the creature keeps his hand around Dean’s forearm, squeezing like a pressure cuff. 

Another alien comes up on Dean’s other side, this one a little smaller than the one in front of Dean and with a mop of - what the hell are those, tentacles? Or is that supposed to be hair? Whatever it is, it moves independently and Dean has to force himself to not get sick just looking at it. 

The second stranger says something and instead of trying to get his point across, Dean decides this is probably a slip away and run like hell situation. Dean grabs the hand around his arm and tries to rip it off. When that doesn’t work, he kicks at what he assumes are they guy’s knee caps. The creature laughs. 

The creature then pulls Dean closer, tucking Dean’s neck into the crook of his elbow. Dean’s feet drag the ground as he’s pulled out of the store. He’s been choked before and it’s never a very pleasant experience. The worst part is when you have to watch your vision blackout around the edges because you never know if that’s all you're ever going to see again. 

The absurd question of where Dean would go if he died here crosses his mind, and he coughs up a chuckle. 

And then he hits the ground. 

Thankfully he wasn’t too high off the ground, but gravel doesn’t feel great on your face regardless of height. He picks himself up just in time to duck as a heavy wooden rod swings through the air and whacks the smaller of the two creatures in the back of the head. 

“What did you do?” Kylo is shouting, rod in hand as he throws out hits in quick succession, just enough to keep the aliens from making any moves towards either him or Dean. It’s more like a mother smacking the hand of a child who’s been told not to touch something breakable than an actual attack.

“Nothing!” Dean shouts, “I just bumped into him.” 

Dean makes the mistake of turning his back and he gets tackled by the smaller alien. This time, Dean at least has the chance to fight back. He wraps his hand around one of the appendages writhing on top of the guy’s head and pulls as hard as he can. He reels back, shrieking in a higher pitch than Dean thought was even possible, and Dean takes it as an opportunity to wriggle away and get back on his feet. 

Dean watches as the wooden rod snaps and splinters across the blue dude’s face and he stumbles backward, dazed. Dean locks eyes with Kylo, and the two take off at top speed, through alleyways and busy streets. They’re both winded by the time they finally stop, but there’s no sign of the aliens. 

“Why’d you use a stick,” Dean asks through breaths. 

“It was there.” Kylo is doubled over, hands on his knees as he catches his breath. 

“What about your - “ Dean waves his hands in a way he hopes gets the message across, “you know.” 

“Left it with Sam.” 

“God, I hope that doesn’t bite us in the ass later,” Dean says. 

“Watch your surroundings and it won’t.” Dean gets the feeling that Kylo isn’t just talking about outside threats. 

* * *

 

Sam has never really considered himself claustrophobic before, but having Ben’s helmet on all the time could easily create a brand new phobia. He can hear himself breathing, which is bad enough, but the respirator is broken and he can hear the filters brush and scrape against the metal. It’s noisy and distracting and sets his nerves on edge. On top of it all, it’s hard to see out of between the dark glass and the metal of the visor. It’s like staring out into the world from inside a cage. 

No wonder Ben’s so pissed off all the time. 

“Ren? Were you even listening?” 

Oh, and there’s that too. 

General Hux is standing in front of him, scowling like always. Though Sam’s starting to think that his face is just like that and he’s got permanent resting bitch face. 

“Yes,” Sam says. His voice sounds so wrong coming out of the helmet. It’s not quite as deep as Ben’s but no one’s made a comment about it yet. 

“Well?” 

Oh, fuck. Of course, he wants a response. And of course, he’s going to be a dick about it and not give Sam any clues as to how he should answer. 

“Well, what? Why do you insist on wasting my time, General?” 

Hux sputters. “Our military strategy is hardly a waste of time,” he snaps. 

Sam sits up a little straighter, hopefully peering down at Hux. He actually can’t tell. “Watch your tone,” Sam says, “I’m still your superior.” 

“My apologies, _Supreme Leader._ ” Hux’s voice oozes venom. 

Sam says nothing. It doesn't seem right to. 

Hux clears his throat. “Can we expect you at the briefing?” He asks. 

“Yes,” Sam says. “You are dismissed.” 

Hux clicks his tongue but leaves. Finally. 

Sam pops the triggers behind his ears and takes the helmet off. It was too stuffy in there, respirator or not. 

“You can take yours off too,” he says to Cas, who's been at his side, posing as a stormtrooper since they got here. 

Cas pulls off the helmet and scoffs at it. “It's no wonder they can't hit anything. It's impossible to see anything.” 

“Tell me about it,” Sam says, turning the helmet over in his hands. It's been repaired, mostly with welding, but it's still beat to hell. Why Ben is still wearing this is beyond him. Even if he wanted to remain masked, he could've reforged something. 

But then again, it might be an attempt to prove something. And Sam knows all about that. 

“Were you purposely ignoring Hux?’ Cas asks. 

Sam shrugs. “What am I supposed to do. I don't know what he's talking about.” 

“Paying attention is usually a good way to fix that,” Cas says. 

“Yeah, but,” Sam sighs, looking out at the empty room in front of him. He’s been held up here for the better part of the day, keeping out of sight as he tries to get as much information on the inner workings of the First Order as possible. It’s a lot easier said than done, considering they keep records on damn near everything they do. It’s obsessive. 

“But what?” Cas prompts. 

“Plausible deniability?” Sam says weakly. 

Cas squints at him and though it’s unmistakably Cas, it looks so foreign now that he’s covered from head to toe in white. It’s like talking to a severed head. 

“If I don’t know what they’re doing I can feel less bad about it,” Sam says. “The less I know the less responsible I am.” 

“You know that’s not how this works, Sam,” Cas says. 

“What else am I supposed to do? I can’t order them to stop taking over planets. They’ll know something’s up right away.” 

“But you can’t just ignore it either. Checking out is probably just as suspicious.” 

“So what do I do? I can’t ignore it but I can’t exactly keep this going. These are real people, Cas. It would be different if they weren’t but… this isn’t just a movie anymore.” 

Before Cas has a chance to respond, the heavy echo of boots sounds outside the door. They both shove their helmets back on, Sam getting his hair caught in it in the process. 

“Sir,” the trooper in front of them says. A woman, by the sound of her voice. “Your presence is requested by the General.” 

“Of course it is,” Sam sighs. 

Sam stands and has no choice but to follow her down deeper into the belly of the ship. Thankfully, Cas follows. 

Turns out the meeting Hux had mentioned as a lot quicker than he’d hoped because when Sam walks through the door the entire room stands. It’s creepy. Sam takes the only chair without an occupant and the rest of the room settles back down to how it was. Cas stands behind Sam, close enough that Sam knows he’s there but not too close as to be awkward. It makes Sam feel marginally better. 

Hux begins the meeting because of course, he does. He’s a control freak and he loves to hear the sound of his own voice. That’s fine with Sam for now, though. Hux can have all the attention focused on him while Sam tries to figure this out. He’s used to going undercover, but never like this. He’s never had so much riding on whether or not he does a good job faking this. And he’s never been in a situation where faking it well might entail making it all worse. 

The reality of it turns Sam’s stomach. 

“But why not a blockade,” one of the female commanders asks. “They won’t be able to leave the planet if we cut them off.” 

“They’ll see it,” Hux says, “we can’t give them time to prepare for an attack.” 

Sam perks up, pay attention now. An attack is serious, but knowing about it might provide a way to sabotage it. 

“But Batuu is out on the edge of the galaxy,” the commander says again, “they have no choice but to leave the planet regularly. We can trap them on the planet. Starve them out. We’ll have fewer potential casualties.” 

“TIE fighters are easy to manufacture. We shouldn’t worry about that.” 

“Soldiers aren’t,” Sam mutters. 

“What was that?” Hux nearly snaps but catches himself with just the edge of a snarl in his voice. 

“Soldiers aren’t easy to manufacture.” Sam snarks. Then, remembering himself and where he is, he continues: “unless you’ve been working on a clone army behind my back.” 

One of the captains snickers, hiding his smile behind a mug of hot tea. It doesn’t conceal much, though. 

“We have a sizeable army,” Hux says. “The handful we’d lose would die for a worthy cause.” 

“Unless they don’t,” Sam says. “The Resistance has evaded you how many times now,  _General_?” 

Sam can almost feel Hux’s sneer from across the room. 

“Which is why a blockade is a bad idea. There should be no warning.” 

“And they’ll still slip away when there are no ships in orbit. And they’ll rebuild. Again.” Sam says. 

“Then what do you suggest, Supreme Leader?” Hux practically spits the words. 

Shit. Sam hadn’t thought this through. If he’s being honest, a combination blitz attack and blockade would be the way he’d do it but there’s no way in hell he’s going to say that. He needs to come up with something reasonable but not dangerous and fast. 

“Send in a spy,” Sam says. “You can’t know where the other Resistance strongholds are if you destroy them now and believe me, there will be strongholds. Find out where they’re all hiding, who’s supporting them, and just how well equipped they are to deal with an attack. Then we’ll talk.” Thank goodness what he blurted wasn’t completely stupid. 

“We don’t need to infiltrate them. There’s less than fifty of them left!” 

“That you know of,” Sam says. Sam stands, palms resting flat on the table in front of him. “Your mistake, General, is that you underestimate your opponent. Sheer force may be intimidating, but it makes those who face the brunt of it crafty.” 

The room is silent, and from the way, several of the commanders are either looking down at the table or shifting their eyes back and forth, this doesn’t happen often. And it makes sense. As much as the two hate each other, Hux and Ben don’t seem to actually fight in front of anyone else. And Hux definitely isn’t the kind of man who likes being told what to do. 

Sam takes a deep breath, gathering his composure. He’s not really sure what to do now, except getting the hell out of here before he makes it worse somehow. So that’s what he does, Cas in tow, until they make it back to the hole in the wall they were hiding in. 

“Holy shit,” Sam says after he takes his helmet off. “What the hell did I just do?” 

“Aside from telling General Hux to shove it?” Cas asks. 

“I just told them to spy on the Resistance. I gave them decent advice. This is bad,” Sam says. 

“In your defense, it was that or advise them on how to kill everyone.” 

“That barely helps,” Sam says. “Any chance you can go instead of whoever they pick?” 

“No. I’m not leaving you here.” 

“But Jack’s there, and he -” 

“He can tell the rest of them,” Cas says with a big gummy smile. “Sam, that’s it. We’ll tell Jack and Jack will tell the others.” 

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, that might actually work,” Sam says. He chuckles, despite himself. “Hey, who knows, we might be able to get some good done around here after all.”


	4. Jack and Sam

_ “Trust is the greatest of gifts, but it must be earned.” The Clone Wars 4x18 Crisis on Naboo _

“Have you ever fired one of these before?” Poe asks. Poe holds the weapon out to him, barrel first. 

Jack, Poe, and Finn are standing at the edges of the forest, far away from the rest of the Resistance. Jack has been watching the two of them practice shooting targets out of the trees for the better part of an hour. 

“No,” Jack says, “I haven’t been taught guns yet.” 

Poe shrugs his shoulders and hands Jack the blaster. “Safety’s that little nob there - nope - yep. Point it towards the trees and fire.” 

Jack holds the weapon at arm’s length, squeezing the trigger as hard as he can. The blaster makes that wonderful high pitched pew noise as a bolt of hot plasma burns its way through the trunk of a tree. 

“Not bad,” Poe says, putting his hand on Jack’s shoulder, “but you don’t have to hold it so far away from your face next time.” 

Jack is honestly too excited to care. He’s holding a real blaster and it makes the real blaster noises and it’s not like that Nerf gun he has under his bed. This is possibly the greatest day of his life. 

Finn instructs Jack on how to hold the blaster and how to stand so he won’t experience the kickback. He also shows Jack how to aim, and that keeping both eyes open usually results in a clearer shot. 

“Do you teach all the new recruits this stuff?” Jack asks. 

“No, not usually. Usually, people already know how to fight and shoot. We don’t really have the resources for that kind of training,” Finn says. 

“If you did, would you?” Jack asks. 

Finn hesitates for a moment. “I don’t know,” he says. 

“You should,” Jack says, “you’re good at it.” 

The side of Finn’s mouth curls upward in a half-smile. “Being good at something and wanting to do it are two separate things. I’m a good marksman. I don’t really want to shoot people.” 

“But they’re the bad guys,” Jack says, “shooting them isn’t the same as shooting regular people.” 

Finn frowns. There’s something in his eyes that Jack can’t quite place. It’s not sadness and it’s not anger, but Jack doesn’t know the name for it. 

“I think that’s about enough for the night, don’t you?” Poe asks. 

Finn agrees. 

“We’ll practice again tomorrow, kid. Maybe we’ll even put you on a speeder,” Poe says. 

Nothing would make Jack happier. He’s been with the Resistance for almost a week now and he’s excited to finally help out a little. There were no extra bunks so he’d been sleeping out in the Falcon in that bed. Rey had said it was fine and that she doesn’t sleep much anyway, but Jack knows that she’s tired. She always looks tired, but she does what Sam does when he can’t sleep - she reads. She also takes notes in the books themselves, which Sam probably wouldn’t like very much, considering how old they probably are. Jack had tried to help her at one point, but she slammed the books shut and hid them without saying anything. 

Rey probably doesn’t like him very much. 

The other people of the Resistance are pretty welcoming, so Jack doesn’t worry too much about them. After Jack had proved he could actually read minds and caught that spy the other day, Poe has been really willing to teach and let Jack help with things. And Jack’s glad he can be helpful. He’s also glad he can play around with the speeders and tell the droids what to do and shoot blasters. It’s been extremely fun for him. Now only if Rey would like him. Then the whole trip would be complete. 

Jack stops at the mess hall before heading back to the Falcon. He doesn’t eat but he knows Rey does and if she’s already eaten he’ll still offer her his. She says thank you, at least, but Jack isn’t totally sure she actually pays attention. 

When Jack gets back to the Falcon, berry flavored protein packs in hand, he finds Rey sitting at the center table, fussing with some wires. Jack does his best to not startle her. 

“Hi, Rey,” he says. 

She jumps, the squeals, and clutches her hand close to her chest. Well, so much for that. 

“Are you okay?” Jack asks. 

She uncradles her hand and looks down at it. “Burnt myself, just a little. I’ll be fine.” 

Jack frowns, setting the food down and coming around the other side of the table. “I can fix that,” he says. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“No, really. I caused it, I should help.” He takes her burnt hand in his, though she’s reluctant to give it. It’s only a white stripe down her pointer finger, so it shouldn’t be too hard. Jack lets just a little of his grace pass through to Rey, healing the skin in a soft glow of yellow light. 

“Thanks,” Rey says, taking her hand back. “I’m not very good at it myself, so thank you.” 

Jack sits down next to Rey on the bench seat. A mess of tangled wires and screws and sharp looking metal pieces sit in front of her, along with two blue crystals. 

“What are you doing?” He asks. 

“Repair work,” Rey says. “My lightsaber, it - uh, there was a bad accident on Ach-to. I dropped it and it broke.” 

“No, that’s not what happened,” Jack says. 

Rey’s eyes widen, just a little. She’s looking him head on now. “That’s how it happened, I swear.” 

“No, you and Kylo Ren were fighting over it and it broke.” 

Rey’s head darts around, as if she’s expecting to see someone else come out of the depths of the Falcon. 

“How did you know that?” She whispers. “Did you pluck it out of my head?” 

“No, I just watched the movie.” 

“Movie? What movie?” 

“Back home. It’s called Star Wars and it’s the greatest story of all time.” 

“Exactly how much of my life have you seen?” Rey asks. 

“Everything from when you met BB-8 to the rescue on Crait.” 

Rey shuts her eyes, letting out a steady breath. “Have you told anyone else what you’ve seen?” 

Jack’s not really sure how to answer that. “Yes and no? Poe says it’s creepy to talk about someone’s past like that. But I haven’t talked about you at all.” 

Rey sighs, her shoulders following. “Can it stay that way? Can you not tell anyone about what happened between me and B- Kylo?” 

“I guess. I don’t see why you don’t want them to know, though. They’re you’re friends, they’ll understand.” 

“Right,” Rey snorts, “everyone flies behind enemy lines to purposefully get captured. Nothing out of the ordinary there.” She starts fidgeting with one of the metal pieces on the table, trying to straighten it out. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Jack says, “he was manipulating you.” 

“Manipulating - No, no he wasn’t.” 

“He made you feel bad so you’d get captured and he could use you.” 

“That’s - no! That’s not how that happened at all.” 

“It’s okay. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes. Some people just can’t be trusted. Some people are just bad.” 

Rey sucks in her bottom lip before standing to her feet. “I don’t know what you think you saw, Jack, but if you think it was a mistake for me to want to help someone else - what are you even doing here then?” 

“I just showed up here,” Jack says. 

Rey shakes her head and rubs her temples. “Promise me you won’t say anything. To Poe or Rose or Finn or Leia or anyone else, okay? They don’t need to know. It’s over now.” 

“Okay,” Jack says, “I promise, I guess.” 

Rey goes back to work on her wires and Jack wanders down to the ship’s kitchen for some water. 

* * *

 

“Please!” Jack begs, “I’ve gotten better at steering. Can’t I just circle the forest?” 

“Nope,” Poe says, “you need years of training to be a pilot and we don’t got that kinda time.” 

They’re walking away from where the X-wings are landed, towards the barracks. Poe had just gotten back from a routine check around the planet, so Jack figured it was as good a time as any to ask. 

“I could go with you? You could show me what to do?” Jack asks. 

Poe runs his fingers through his hair, trying to unflatten his helmet hair. “No can do. I’ve got things I have to do today. Why don’t you find Finn? He could train you on some of the bigger guns.” 

“Finn went off on a perimeter check with Rose.” 

“Yeah he’s not gonna be back soon,” Poe mutters. “What about Rey? She start you on your Jedi training yet?” 

“She says she doesn’t know enough. Also, I don’t think she likes me very much.” 

“Rey? Nah, she’s just… aloof,” Poe says. “She’s used to being alone. I’m sure if you talk to her more, get to know her, she’ll be friendlier.” 

“Is that how you did it?” 

“No, she doesn’t really talk to me either.” 

“If you don't have any luck how am I supposed to?” 

Poe thinks, tossing his head from side to side as he does. “Dunno. You got any common ground?” 

“Magic?” Jack says. “My mom is dead, too. I don't know.” 

Poe stops at a doorway, helmet tucked under his arm. “Well, you don't have to get along with her. I'm sure Finn'll be back eventually. In the meantime just… see who else needs help.” 

He walks through the door and Jack doesn't get the chance to say anything else before it zips closed. 

Without anything better to do, Jack heads back to the Falcon, bored and lonely for the first time since he got here. The universe is fun and all but after a while… He misses Fruit Loops. The closest thing they have here is a lukewarm gruel, and that tastes like shoe. And he misses hot chocolate. And television. 

But most of all, he misses Cas. And Sam. And even Dean. And he wants to go home. 

“Jack? Why are you crying?” Jack looks up to find Rey staring at him from across the room. He didn't remember getting back here, and he doesn't know when he started crying. 

“I miss my dads,” Jack says. 

Rey frowns. “Oh. I’m sorry, Jack.” 

Jack sniffles, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his new jacket. 

“You’ll see them again,” Rey says, standing. She hovers in his space like she wants to give him a hug but she doesn’t, so Jack does it for her, wrapping his arms around her middle. It’s a little awkward at first, but she gets used to it. 

He pulls away after a few minutes when the tears no longer threaten to dribble down his cheeks. “This is the longest I’ve ever been away from them,” Jack says. 

“Must be tough for you,” Rey says, playing with the wraps around her wrist. She has that sad look in her eyes again, and Jack doesn’t like it at all. 

“Are you okay, Rey?” He asks. 

She shakes out of it with a bright smile. “I’m fine,” she says. Her eyes don’t lose that sad look, though. 

“So, uh,” Jack fumbles, “what were you doing when I got here?” 

Rey sighs. “Same as always. Trying to put the pieces back together,” she says, gesturing at the partially complete lightsaber shaft on the table. 

“You can do it," Jack says, “you’re good with mechanics and stuff.” 

“Thanks,” she says, running her fingers over the silver metal. “It’s not really the housing that’s causing me trouble, though.” 

“What’s the problem then?” 

Rey picks up one of the blue crystals, holding it between her thumb and forefinger. “This,” she says. “Do you know what kyber crystals are?” 

“Yeah, they’re what gives the lightsaber it’s color.” 

“They’re sentient,” Rey says. 

“So they… have thoughts? And feelings?” 

“Sort of. They have feelings, that’s for sure. And memories. This one won’t shut up about them.” 

“They talk?” 

“No, they give visions. Here,” Rey says, gesturing for Jack's hand. When he gives it to her, she puts the crystal in his palm. It’s a lot cooler and smoother than he expected. “What do you see?” 

Jack frowns, concentrating down at the little rock. Nothing happens. “I don’t see anything,” he says. 

“You don’t?” 

Jack shakes his head. 

She takes the crystal back, looking at it through the light this time. “Maybe it’s just me.” 

“What does it show you?” He asks. 

“The past,” she says, “a war and many battles, the vague impressions of other people I don’t know. It shows some… unpleasant things, too. Murder. Slaughter. Pain. I don’t know what it’s trying to tell me. I thought I did, but I just don’t anymore.” 

“Maybe there’s something in those visions that you need?” Jack says. 

“I don’t know,” Rey says, setting the crystal back on the table. “I don’t know anything about this. I don’t know why I even have to know.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“All this Jedi stuff. I thought I understood, after what happened with Luke, what I was supposed to do. But the books are confusing, even with translations, and there’s no one around to help. I have to do it all alone.” 

“You’ve done everything alone.I thought you’d prefer it that way.” 

Rey crosses her arms, tucking them close to her body. “I hate it.” 

“But you spend so much time alone.” 

“Because they don’t get it,” Rey says, gesturing off in the direction of the barracks. “It’s the war. There’s always meetings and plans and everyone thinks I’m some kind of savor,” she says. “All their hopes are on me and I - I never asked for that.” 

“I don’t think anyone asks for it,” Jack says, “but you’re special. The Force chose you, so you have to do whatever it wants.” 

“And what does it want, exactly?” 

“Easy. You kill Kylo Ren, save the galaxy and train more Jedi.” 

“I was afraid you’d say that.” She plops down on the bench seat. 

“You don’t have to be afraid. You’re the hero. You win in the end.” 

“You’re certain that’s what’s in my future?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Jack says, “the good guys always win and the bad guys always lose.” 

Rey nods. She won’t look at him. “That’s the stuff of children’s stories.” 

“If it makes you feel better, this is kind of a children’s story where I’m from. Adults like it too, but it’s for kids.” 

Rey keeps staring off into the distance, staring at nothing. For a moment Jack thinks it’s because there’s something going on in the Force, but he’s not so sure when she excuses herself. He doesn’t see her for the rest of the night. 

* * *

 

Sam’s patience is running thin. He probably should have expected it, being where he is and doing what he’s doing, but he’s starting to get stir-crazy and the only people he interacts with either hates him or are Cas. At least he had the idea of “promoting” Cas to officer, so he could actually see his face now. Talking to those blank, unchanging white helmets was eerie. 

“You need to take a break,” Cas says. Sam’s been by himself, in what is probably supposed to be the throne room for the better part of the day. It’s cold, utilitarian, and not flashy in the slightest. Sam supposes it’s better than that awful red in the last one, but it’s boring as hell to look at. 

“And do what?” Sam asks. He’s sharper than he means to, and the mask turns his voice into a hiss. That’s another thing he’s starting to hate, too. 

“Anything but stay here all day.” 

“Then they’re just going to come looking for me. At least if they know where I am they don’t feel like they need to keep tabs on me.” 

Cas nods. He looks sharp in his blue uniform, even if he’s a little stiff in it. Maybe the fact that he is stiff and awkward in it adds to the illusion. “It’s been unusually quiet today, hasn’t it?” 

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” 

No sooner do the words come out of Sam’s mouth when the door hisses and three stormtroopers enter the room. 

“Sir, the General -” the shortest trooper starts. 

Sam lets out a guttural groan, throwing his head back. “If the General has anything to say to me, he can come here and say it himself. Make him do something besides sneer at everyone else for once,” Sam says. 

The troopers look at each other, and Sam can practically feel their unease. “Sir,” the tallest trooper says in a bellowing voice, “he’s indisposed at the moment.” 

“Why do I care?” Sam asks. “Am I the Supreme Leader around here or not? If he wants to speak with me tell him he can do it himself.” 

One of the troopers mutters something that Sam doesn’t catch. 

“What did you say?” Sam asks. 

All three troopers stand stock still, like children who’ve been caught sneaking cookies. Sam rolls his eyes. This is starting to get really old, really fast. The troopers are afraid of him, the commanders stutter over their words when he asks for clarification, hell, the only one who isn’t afraid of him is Hux and Hux is a dick. He’s getting tired of it. He’s getting tired of talking to faceless people who always seem worried that he’s going to start screaming. He’s been doing his best, trying to keep a low profile and mind his own business, but if he has to spend one more day like this he might take Ben’s lightsaber to the airlock seals. 

“Trooper, what’s your number?” Sam asks. 

“EK-2005,” the trooper says. 

“Take off your helmet, EK.” 

“We’re not supposed to -” 

“It’s not a suggestion,” Sam says, a little colder than he needs to. Cas doesn’t say anything, but Sam can feel his eyes on him. 

The trooper does as he’s told, pulling his helmet off. He’s young, probably barely even twenty. His big green eyes are wide and full of fear and his lip is trembling. His skin is darker than Dean’s but there’s a strong resemblance, from the freckles to the defiant way he’s still standing tall, despite his obvious fear. 

If Sam hadn’t made up his mind about this before, seeing this trooper would have done it for him. 

“You two, take off your helmets, too.” 

They do. They’re both women, and they’re both much too young for Sam’s comfort. 

“New rule,” Sam says, “from now on all troopers are to keep their helmets off while performing their regular duties onboard.” 

“Sir, that’s -” the shorter woman starts, “you’re serious?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Sam asks. 

The troopers exchange worried glances but they say nothing. 

“EK, who’s the head of public relations around here?” Sam asks. 

“Public - public relations?” EK stammers. 

“Who’s in charge of our image? Who’s the one who determines how we deal with other planets?” 

“M-Monroe, Sir.” 

“Good. Go get them, please.” 

The shorter woman mouths please to her companion. The other woman shrugs. RIght, please is probably not something dictators say when they want something. Oh well. 

“And you three, keep the helmets off. I’ll make an announcement for the others, but if anyone tells you you’re out of uniform, tell them to take it up with me. Understood?” 

“Yes, Sir,” the three say in unison. 

“Good. You can go now,” Sam says. 

The three troopers make their way out of the room, glancing over their shoulders wearily. They leave without incident. 

“Sam!” Cas hisses once the door is shut, “what are you doing?” 

“What do you mean, what am I doing? I’m making rule changes.” 

“We’re not supposed to be doing that right now.” 

“Why not? I’m king, aren’t I?” 

“No, you’re pretending to be king.” 

“What’s the difference?” 

Cas sighs, but walks around the throne until he’s standing right in front of Sam. “You can’t just make changes here, Sam. It’s dangerous. You might have the costume, but you’re not actually Kylo Ren and you don’t have the kind of power to protect yourself.” 

“You do, though,” Sam says. 

Cas sighs and rolls his eyes. “That’s not the point. The point is you’re not going to win anyone’s favor by doing whatever it is you’re trying to do. What even are you trying to do?” 

Sam groans. “I just - what’s the point in being here if I can’t do anything positive. I’m going insane, Cas. Everywhere I look, everyone looks the same and I can’t take it anymore. And honestly, this is a good opportunity to maybe do something good for once.” 

“Good how?” 

“I’m king of the galaxy, right? They have to do what I say, so why not abolish slavery? Or set a minimum wage? Or anything this stupid order says it wants to do anyway?” 

“Sam, this is an authoritarian government. All you’ll do is endear people to it and when things go to hell like we both know they will they’ll be more likely to support the bad guys.” 

“But we can do some good? Alleviate some suffering!” 

“You can’t do any good here. The whole system is corrupt.” 

“Well, I can’t just sit by and let them keep doing awful things! I can’t keep suggesting they treat everyone with kid gloves instead of full-fledged attacks either, or they’ll know something’s up.” Sam groans. He moves to run his fingers through his hair, but the helmet stops his progress. He forgot he was still wearing the damn thing. 

Cas sighs. “I know, Sam. I know this bothers you. It bothers me, too. But we can’t get ourselves into more potential danger. We only have to hang out here for as long as it takes Dean and Kylo to find a way to get us home.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Sam says. And that’s really the most frustrating part. “I know.” 

 


	5. Dean

_“Who my father was matters less than my memory of him.” The Clone Wars 2x20 Death Trap_

“Are we there yet?” Dean grumbles, staring up at the ugly yellow padding on the ship’s ceiling.

“No.”

“How much longer?”

“We’ll get there when we get there.”

“Yeah, but how long?”

Dean knows he’s being an asshole, but what else is there to do really? There’s no music, nothing to read, and he can’t even text. It wouldn’t be so bad if there was actually someone worthwhile to talk to, but he doesn’t even have that right now.

“I thought you were supposed to be an adult, not a child,” Kylo says.

“That’s real rich coming from you, Captain Temper Tantrum.”

Dean watches as Kylo’s shoulders tense. He doesn’t react more than that, and Dean isn’t even going to get the satisfaction of a decent fight.

“You know,” Dean says, “when I was a kid I loved Star Wars. I could still probably quote most of _Empire_ if I tried.”

Kylo remains silent.

“Jack really likes the extra stuff now. The Clone Wars, Rebels, even the sequels. Personally, I prefer the originals. Back when heroes were heroes and villains were cool. And the prequels, I dunno. The CG sucked and the dialogue - Sam’s high school performance of Oklahoma wasn’t that bad.”

“Are you going anywhere with this or do you just like to hear yourself talk?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” Dean asks.

“Do you have to be doing something?”

“I mean, hell, even on long ass trips I’ve at least got something to eat. I don’t even have snacks.” Dean gets up, stretching his arms over his head as he does. “This is the worst road trip in the history of shitty road trips.”

Kylo spins the pilot’s chair around then, staring at Dean like Dean’s existence is something he has to endure. “You have a funny way of showing gratitude,” he says.

Dean snorts. “Gratitude for what? Pulling those goons off me? I was fine.”

“Your lips were turning blue,” Kylo says.

“I was fine,” Dean grumbles. “I have nothing to be grateful to you for.”

Kylo raises a single eyebrow at that. “Fine. We’ll turn around then. See how easy it is to find someone else with the knowledge to get you home. Or don’t. I don’t care.”

“Like it would be that hard. Newsflash, Kyle, you’re not the only special force user in the galaxy.”

“Did you just call me Kyle?”

“It’s a lot less idiotic than what you call yourself.”

Kylo’s nostrils flare as he huffs. “Do you talk this much shit to everyone or just when you think you won’t face consequences?”

“I’m always like this. You aren’t special.”

The console starts beeping and for one brief second Dean’s certain they’re going to crash or they’ve been targeted or something terrible is about to happen. Kylo though doesn’t seem concerned at all. He just spins the chair back around and pulls the lever down, easing them out of hyperspace. The ship comes to a sudden stop regardless, but Dean doesn’t feel like his insides are being tossed around this time.

They’re right above some planet with an atmosphere so thick Dean can’t tell if there’s water or not underneath. It’s probably going to be like walking into an oven down there. But the ship makes an easy decent before they land on a sandy hill overlooking a wide trench in the dusty earth. Dean follows Kylo out of the ship and onto the planet’s surface. It’s not as hot as Dean worried, but he’s still sweating by the time they make their way down the hill.

“Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Dean asks. Kylo is ahead of him, though only just. He’s not as graceful trudging through.

“I’m sure,” he says.

“Are you really sure, because I don’t see any temples around here.”

“Not everything is Coruscant.”

The land flattens out at the base of the hill. The ground is easier to walk across, but there’s at least a pound of sand in Dean’s boots, making it harder to push forward. It takes everything in Dean not to quote that sand rant, but God does he really hate sand right now.

They walk until the craggy mountain line in the distance becomes easier to make out and the lake bed to their side runs off in another direction. There’s sweat dripping down the bridge of Dean’s nose and these dumb pants are starting to pinch in the wrong places.

“You’re absolutely sure you know where you’re going?” Dean asks.

“Yes, Dean. I know where I’m going.”

Dean seriously doubts that. There’s nothing around here but dust, open air, and more dust. “What are we looking for? I can help you look,” he says. The sooner they can get somewhere with shade, the better.

“You won’t be able to find it,” Kylo says.

“Oh, let me guess, it’s some Jedi thing, isn’t it?”

“...Yes.”

“How are we supposed to find it then? You’re no Jedi. Hell, you’re not even a Sith. You’re just some punk in Vader cosplay.”

Kylo stops, turning around. His hair is clinging to his forehead and his face is a little red. Good. At least he’s suffering a little, too. His jaw clenches before he speaks. “What the hell is your problem? This entire time you’ve done nothing but whine and complain and insult me. If you weren’t Sam’s brother I would’ve flung you into the side of a building by now.”

“I dunno, maybe I just hate evil jackasses,” Dean says.

“No, it’s something else,” Kylo says, taking a step forward. “It’s like your just waiting for me to do something so you can justify shooting me.”

“Trust me, buddy, anyone who spends any time with you would want to shoot you.” This is going nowhere fast. The only problem is that he’s not going to let it go until Dean pisses him off enough to drop it.

“Sam doesn’t.”

“Oh, so you have a crush on him, too? Don’t worry, his affections will wear off as soon as he realizes what a piece of shit you actually are. He thinks anyone can change just because he did but the difference is that he’s a good person,” Dean says.

Kylo stands in front of Dean, jaw clenched and fists flexing at his side. Not thirty feet away, a boulder splits in half and crumbles to the ground. Dean knows there’s no way that happened on its own. And Dean also knows that he really should lay off. They don’t have to get along. They don’t even have to talk to each other, they just have to get through this. But Dean can’t help himself. Kylo’s very presence is like a blister on his tongue and he can’t help but remind himself how irritating it is.

But again, Kylo does nothing but growl before turning around and stomping off, much faster than Dean can keep up with without jogging.

 

* * *

 

They’re standing at the mouth of a dried out riverbed, staring at the dirt while the vague halos of the suns drift further towards the horizon.

“You’re sure this is it?” Dean asks.

“This is it,” Kylo says. “I feel it.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “You sure your radar isn’t off? There’s nothing here.” And there isn’t. There’s not even a foundation for whatever temple used exist here. If one ever did.

“I hate to tell you buddy, but there’s nothing here,” Dean says.

Kylo frowns, crouching low on the ground. “It has to be.” He presses his palms down on the hard ground, and they both wait for an uncomfortably long amount of time.

“I don’t think -”

“Shh,” Kylo snaps.

“Did you just shush me?”

“Yes. Now shush.”

“Look, if you don’t know where the temples are you can just say so.”

“I know where they are! Or, I know where this one is at least. I’ve seen this one.”

“Like in dreams or?”

“No, I’ve been here before. When Luke - oh! You need to stop thinking,” Kylo says.

“I need to what?”

“Clear your mind and shut up. The temple won’t open unless we’re both quiet.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Just do it.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but what choice does he have really? He can zone out for a few minutes if it’s going to get them closer to the end goal. If not… well, he’s running out of patience.

Dean’s trying to focus on one of the mountain peaks when the ground begins to tremble beneath his feet. His flimsy focus is broken instantly as he tries not to fall on his ass. The ground in front of him begins to rise and twist, revealing a massive spiral of rock. The trembling does not stop until the building before them blocks out both suns.

Kylo stands, dusting off his knees before shooting Dean a look that’s one twitch away from a smirk. Dean doesn’t dignify it with a response.

The temple is all made of rust-colored stone and none of it looks like it was built. The entry to the temple is just a wide mouth, leading into a dark, hollow space. Their footsteps do not echo.

“You don’t have a flashlight do you?” Dean asks.

“...no.”

Dean huffs. “Well, that’s great. We made it all the way here and there’s no -” a sudden roar and gust of wind cut Dean’s words off as the cavern is illuminated by torches that line the walls in front and behind them. “Well, that’s convenient.”

Kylo takes one of the torches from the wall and makes his way through another, much smaller hole in the wall. Dean scrambles to follow.

The inside of the temple is impossibly long with very little to look at. Dean may not be a Jedi, but he’s pretty sure there’s supposed to be a little more than empty rooms and magic torches.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Dean asks. “It’s kind of… disappointing for a Jedi temple.”

“What were you expecting? They’re monks. They’re not exactly interested in excesses.”

“Yeah but there’s no,” Dean flaps his arms to the side, “art. Or scrolls. Or cryptic messages anywhere.”

Kylo frowns. “This is quite different from what I remember.”

“Well that’s just great,” Dean grumbles.

“Dean!” A shout that’s unmistakably Sam’s voice echoes off the walls from somewhere deep in the temple.

“Sam?”

“Dean!” The voice calls again. “Get down here, we’re trapped!”

Dean doesn't think. He just peels off, sprinting down the tunnel as fast as he can, ignoring Kylo call for him behind.

“Sammy, where are you?”

The path in front of him twists and slopes downward, and he nearly trips over his own feet when the angle makes running harder. He nearly slams into a wall a few times, but he manages to only clip them with his shoulder. Sam is still calling out, but the harder Dean runs the further away his cries sound.

“Dean, hurry, I don’t think Cas can hold out much longer,” Sam calls.

It’s too dark to see, and if Dean’s common sense filter was working he wouldn’t be running when he can’t even see his hand in front of his face. But that part of his brain never did work too well when Sam or Cas was in trouble. So it’s no one’s fault but his own when his feet hit what is definitely not solid ground.

It all happens at once. The ground beneath Dean creaks, then sways, then it’s falling headfirst into the darkness. At least he has the good sense to cover his face and brace for impact.

“It’s a trick,” Kylo’s voices comes from behind him.

Dean’s incredibly confused for the half second it takes him to open his eyes and peak past his arms. Kylo is in front of him, it turns out, arm still extended in the air, standing on a wooden bridge that’s definitely seen better days.

“The temple is trying to tempt you into reckless behavior. Apparently, it’s working,” Kylo says.

“Why would a Jedi temple do that? Seems kind of counterproductive.”

“Would you prefer traps or armed guards?”

Dean huffs and rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Could you, I dunno, put my back on the bridge?”

Kylo drops his arm and Dean floats back to the bridge and on his feet. It makes catching his balance and not making the bridge sway that much harder, so he drops to his knees, clutching the rope railing.

“How high up are we?” Dean asks.

“No idea.”

“Awesome..”

“Don’t tell me you're afraid of heights.”

“I’m afraid of wandering around in the dark over a bottomless pit. That seems like a pretty reasonable fear to me.”

“Then let's get off the bridge before you have even more of a meltdown,” Kylo says.

Dean rolls his eyes, pulling himself up on shaky legs. He starts the walk forward, to god knows where on the legs of a newborn deer. It’s a small mercy that Kylo doesn’t say anything.

It feels like it takes an hour to traverse the bridge. It might actually have been for all Dean knows. But when he finally steps onto solid ground, he’s more than tempted to kiss it. He doesn’t, but it’s close. At least Kylo gives him a moment for his legs to stop feeling like jello.

“So what exactly are we looking for?” Dean asks.

“We’ll know when we find it,” Kylo says.

Dean rolls his eyes. “You know, that cryptic bullshit is getting really old, really fast.”

“I don’t know what it looks like! I just know we’re looking for a map. Or an index. Something that will lead us to other temples.”

They come to a forking path, one with three arches, each with writing wrapped around their wooden frames. Kylo stops for an uncomfortably long amount of time. The silence in the chamber sets Dean’s nerves on edge. It’s one thing for the world to be quiet, but there’s almost always some kind of noise, whether that’s crickets or dripping water or the distant hum of the highway. But right now, the only thing Dean can hear is his own breathing.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Dean asks.

Kylo doesn’t answer. Instead, he takes a single step forward and frowns.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Dean says.

“It’s different than I remember. None of this was here before.”

“Well that’s just great,” Dean grumbles. “I get to play Raiders with Darth Darcy. If I fall into a pit of space snakes I’m going to murder you and Sam.”

“Could you just shut the fuck up for five minutes!” Kylo snaps. “In case you forgot we’re only here because you need my help, so either shut up so I can concentrate or be helpful.”

Dean’s stunned silent for a moment, not because of the way Kylo stares him down like he wishes he could throw him into a wall, but because he just said fuck. They don’t say fuck in Star Wars, do they?

Kylo, however, seems to take Dean’s silence as acquiescence and turns back to the forking paths.

“What does it say?” Dean finally asks after a few more painful seconds of silence.

“Easy is the path to wisdom for those not blinded by ego.”

Dean snorts. “Great. What are we supposed to do with that?”

“No idea.”

Well, they can stand here for who knows how long trying to figure it out, or they can try to make some headway. “I say the middle one,” Dean says, walking ahead.

For once, Kylo doesn’t protest.

“How come this crap isn't affecting you?” Dean grouses. He can still hear Sam, now joined by Cas and Jack in the distance.

Kylo isn't looking at him, he's looking ahead towards the wide open area in front of them. “Who says it isn't?”

“I don't hear anything,” Dean grumbles.

“You're not listening then.”

They’ve been walking for a long time, though it’s finally starting to look like they’re making progress. The chambers they’ve been passing through are still intact, even if the paintings on the walls have chipped away and the furniture has crumbled to dust. The torch they’re carrying catches in the reflection of the large crystals hanging from the ceiling, spattering glittering orange and yellow light around the rest of the room, like a disco ball. Dean’s not sure if they’re natural, or if they were put there by the Jedi who used to live here. At least there’s evidence that this was an actual place once upon a time and not just another hole in the ground.

Dean shuts his mouth, straining to hear anything over the blood rushing past his ears. He can make out Sam's bellowing shouts, sounding so much farther away now, but this time there is something else. It's a woman screaming. Dean doesn't have to be told who.

Dean snorts. “Pathetic.”

Kylo clenches his jaw, the torchlight casting eerie shadows on his face. He looks much more sinister than he ever has. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“She's not into you, dude.”

“I'm aware.” His voice is hollow.

“Good. ‘Cause she deserves better anyway.”

“I know.”

“You say that, but we both know how you went all crazy ex-boyfriend -”

“Remind me again which one you're married to, Sam or Castiel? Or are you just the awkward third wheel? Seems a little strange that three grown men would position themselves all as parents to one child in a completely platonic way.”

“You shut your fucking mouth! Sam's my brother and Cas is my best friend!”

“So you are the awkward third wheel then.”

“At least I’m not a patricidal maniac who cockblocks himself.”

“Excuse me.” Kylo stops in his tracks, looking genuinely surprised by Dean’s words.

“You heard me. I’m not some family murdering idiot who can’t even land himself a sure thing. She was three seconds away from riding you into the sunset - ”

“Don’t talk about Rey like that.”

“Does it make you uncomfortable? Knowing you fucked it up when you opened your big dumb mouth?”

“At least I’m not too much of a coward to make my feelings know.”

“Okay, you know what -” Dean takes a deep breath and clenches his fists. Sam really wouldn’t like it if he started wailing on this jackass. But Sam isn’t here.

Dean’s first punch lands squarely in Kylo’s stomach. He sputters, but Dean doesn’t have time to move out of the way before he gets clocked in the jaw. The fucker hits hard, it turns out, but Dean’s nothing if not scrappy. Dean goes low, hoping to throw him off balance but gets a knee to the gut for his efforts. It’s a mess from there on out. Dean manages to get a few good hits, especially when he wiggled around Kylo’s back and went for his kidneys, but Dean also gets knocked around quite a bit.

It’s Dean who finally moves them towards one of the chamber walls. It’s a little dirty to pin the guy against a wall, but Dean really doesn’t care. Of course, Dean misses the first punch and slams right into the stone. Then his arm is being wrenched behind his back and he’s got a face full of dust and dirt.

“Are you done?” Kylo huffs.

“Fuck you,” Dean grumbles. If he didn’t have a boot pressed into his shoulder blade he’d try to sweep Kylo’s other leg, but that isn’t happening. Kylo pulls his arm and Dean swears he hears his wrist dislocate.

“I asked if you were done,” he says.

“Yeah, I’m done,” Dean huffs.

As soon as Kylo drops his arm and steps off his back Dean goes for Kylo’s knees. This time, at least, he’s able to knock him on his back and straddle him. Dean lands a solid hit right below Kylo’s eye and he takes satisfaction in knowing that it’s going to bruise. Dean isn’t expecting to be thrown off and sent back into the wall, so when his head slams into the rock he’s more than a little stunned. He can’t even pull himself up for a moment, and when he’s jerked forwards suddenly he nearly hurls.

Then there’s the awful sound of glass shattering, echoing in Dean’s head. He knows he doesn’t pull himself to his feet, but he’s up regardless, stumbling on clumsy feet. He’s being pulled and pushed forward faster than he can make himself move. There’s too much noise between the shouting and the crashing around him for Dean to make any sense of what the hell is going on.

Dean stumbles, barely able to catch himself on his side so he doesn’t eat dirt again. He looks up and sees his own face, repeated over and over again, in a glittering rainbow sheen. They just hang there, above his head, squinting at him as he squints at them. And then he’s being dragged by the collar, but his gaze stays on the glittering array long enough for it to reveal itself as one of those massive crystals before it falls and impales the ground.

It’s too dark for Dean to focus his eyes, though that hurts to even try at this point. “I’ve never had a concussion this bad,” he finds himself saying. There are hands at the side of his face, warm and solid, holding him still.

“The fact that you’ve had multiple concussions is worrying.” That’s Kylo’s voice.

“Cas usually fixes it. Feels weird though, like tingling in your blood.”

“This probably won’t be much better then,” Kylo says.

Dean gasps out loud as the sensation washes over him. It’s like having warm bath water injected straight into your veins, and it’s not fun at all. It stays local, however, sitting in his forehead and right behind his eyes, only just dancing down his wrist before disappearing completely.

Dean’s mind is clear, free from the dizziness and the fog, but there is still a minor buzz behind his eyes.

Dean sits up, looking back in the direction they’d just came from. It’s still very dark, but as his eyes adjust he can make out large shapes and lumps on the ground that weren’t there before. The crystals have dislodged, meaning that Dean hit that wall hard. It also means that he sure as hell didn’t get himself out of there, but he already knew that.

Kylo is still crouched in front of him, too close to see the look on his face, but far enough that it’s not creepy. “Thanks,” Dean says, rubbing the back of his head. That doesn’t really hurt but it’s a habit.

Kylo says nothing, just stands and offers his hand for Dean to take. Dean does.

“I - uh, dropped the torch back there,” Kylo says.

“Yeah. Figures.” Dean shoves his hands in his pockets, and thankfully for once, his phone isn’t broken when he needs it. He turns the flashlight on and illuminates their path in blue-white light. It’s less helpful than the torch was, but it beats fumbling around in the dark.

For a time, the only sound is the steady drip of water from someplace unseen and the scuff of their feet against the dirt. Finally, Dean’s the one to break the silence.

“Thanks for back there,” Dean says.

“Which part, the ass kicking or the life-saving?” It’s too dark to tell, but Dean would swear he hears a smile in Kylo’s voice.

Dean huffs a laugh, “yeah, okay I deserved that. But seriously. I wouldn’t’ve been able to get out of there if I tied.”

“I know,” Kylo says.

“So yeah. Thanks.” Dean’s really not sure where to take this. He’s not getting the usual acknowledgment here and now it’s just awkward.

“Why are you so… confused?” Kylo asks.

“Hey, don’t go reading my mind -”

“I didn’t! You radiate confusion. It’s more pleasant than the rage you were broadcasting earlier, but it’s still irritating.”

“Sorry my feelings are irritating,” Dean mocks.

Kylo lets out a heavy sigh. “That’s not what I meant. Regardless, if you have questions now is the time to ask. We’ve got nothing else to do.”

“Promise not to get pissed and start another fight?”

“You started the last one.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Fine.”

Dean takes a deep breath, bracing himself for the sheer amount of nerd that’s about to come out of his mouth. “I didn’t have the best childhood. Where we come there are monsters and my dad made it his mission to hunt them down and kill them. And he made it mine and Sammy’s mission, too. So I - I got lost in fiction a lot. Read a lot, watched a lot of movies, anything so real life wasn’t real for an hour or two. And I always thought it would be cool to live here, you know? Spaceships and hyperdrive and lightsabers and princesses. The whole thing was just cool, you know?I kinda saw myself as Han Solo,” he says, ducking his head, “dashing rogue, lives by his own rules, gets the girl. So seeing him die - it’s fucked up, man.”

“You’re not the only one,” Kylo says, his voice breaking a little at the end.

“Then why? Why’d you do it? Why didn’t you just walk away?”

“I’m a terrible person. I always have been. My mother was afraid of me, dad left because of me and Luke wanted me dead. They knew I was a monster before I even did, but I’m - “ his breath shakes as he exhales, “I’m pathetic. I couldn’t commit without feeling - none of it feels good, but I couldn’t do it. I was told that it would take one evil act, something that was an affront to nature itself. But I can’t even do that right.”

“I don’t think feeling bad you killed your dad is a moral failing. It’s kind of the opposite,” Dean says.

“And that’s the problem. I’m too sentimental for the dark side and too bitter for the light. I don’t fit.”

“Seems like a bullshit system to me,” Dean says.

Kylo doesn’t say anything, so Dean takes it upon himself to fill the silence.

“You know, some days I hate my father. He was obsessed with revenge and he put all that on me and Sammy and I hate him for that. Some days I feel bad for him because his life was ruined by bullcrap, too. And some days I think about when he taught me to drive or took us to some busted up carnival and podunk nowhere and I miss him. And it’s taken me a long to time to realize I can feel all of that because people are messy and not usually just one thing.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Dean sighs. He’s tired and sore but more than that he’s just emotionally tired. “I don’t think you’re a bad person,” Dean says. “Yeah, I’m gonna be pissed that my favorite character died and I still don’t get it, but I don’t think you’re too far gone. You wouldn’t be here if you were and you wouldn’t’ve given a shit about leaving me behind, either.”

Dean’s not sure he’s completely changed his mind yet, or that anything good is actually in store for Kylo, but after all that’s happened he’s starting to think that maybe there’s a little hope for the guy. He’s still kind of a snob and not exactly warm or welcoming, but if he were beyond hope he wouldn’t've saved Dean’s ass three times now.  

“Thank you, but I’m not sure I agree,” Ben says.

“You ever think maybe that’s your problem? You make a lot of assumptions about what other people want or think. You might be able to read minds but I doubt you can do it to everyone all the time.”

“You - “ Ben huffs, “I don’t - “ and then groans. “Fine.”

Dean laughs. He starts to say something when a stream of light catches his eye just over Ben’s shoulder. “What’s that?” Dean asks, pointing.

“That,” Ben says, now also looking at the light, “is probably what we came here for.”

“How do you know? And don’t say the force.”

“Alright.” And with that Ben walks off towards it. Dean huffs and trails after him. At least they’ll be out of here, soon.


	6. Castiel and Jack

_“Without humility, courage is a dangerous game.” The Clone Wars 3x21 Padawan Lost_

“Ren!” General Hux is loud and borders on shrill when he’s angry. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Sam sits up, ramrod straight as Hux marches, his face nearly as red as his hair.

This isn’t going to be pretty, not by a long shot. Castiel had warned Sam that this was messing too much with the inner workings of the First Order was a bad thing, but Sam was determined to try to do something. Castiel can’t really blame him for that, honestly, but he knew there would be repercussions. There always is when you try to take on established authority.

Before Sam has a chance to say anything, Castiel moves on instinct, pushing Hux backward with his grace. Hux stops short of the wall and only just catches himself before he falls flat on his face.

“Did you just?” Sam asks in a gruff whisper.

Castiel nods.

Sam takes a moment, adjusting the black robes that drape around his body, straightening them where they’re bunched up. “What do you think you’re doing, General,” Sam hisses. If Castiel didn’t know better, he’d be a little frightened himself. But he knows Sam. He trusts Sam not to take it too far for an act. “You have no right to speak to me that way.”

Hux stands. “You let the troopers take off their helmets!” Apparently, throwing him around did nothing to quell his anger. “Do you know what will happen if they’re allowed to walk around unmasked?”

“They’ll form stronger bonds with their fellow soldiers.”

“They’ll start talking! What use is our conditioning stream if they can’t hear it?”

Oh, right. Sam didn’t know about that. Castiel might’ve mentioned in initially, but he had a feeling that it would only make Sam want to go further.

“We shouldn’t be focused on making our soldiers or those we rule over submit out of fear. If they choose it, their loyalties will be stronger,” Sam says.

Castiel tries not to cringe. 

“They’ll be loyal when they have no other choice. They’ll be loyal when we’re all they know. They’ll be loyal if I have to blast every damn planet in the galaxy!” Hux shouts, his blue eyes wild and unhinged.

Castiel makes a mental note to keep a closer eye on him in the future.

“You will not!” Sam’s on his feet now, walking away from the throne. This is getting bad. This is going to get very bad. “You will follow orders and do as I say. Nothing more, nothing less,” Sam says.

The door opens just in time to pull both men out of their shouting match, though Castiel isn’t sure who comes through is much better. It’s Phasma, storming in in her silver armor. Castiel can’t see her face, either, but he’d guess she isn’t happy.

“Sir,” she’s calm, but the echo of her voice is eerie. Castiel doesn’t like it. “A word?”

“Phasma, I’ll -” Hux starts.

“Not you,” she says.

Hux looks between Sam and Phasma, unsatisfied but finally quiet. “I’ll leave you to it then,” he says. Castiel suspects that if anyone truly scares Armitage Hux, it’s Phasma.

“Phasma,” Sam says, the crack in his voice painfully audible. “I trust you’ve recovered fully,” he says.

Castiel tries not to be too spiteful or wish ill on others, but Phasma is one person he’d hoped wouldn’t pull through. Hux might me a mad man, but he’s a coward in many ways. He’d never have the nerve to attempt to unseat Kylo without backup. Phasma, however - she probably doesn’t even know what fear feels like.

“Sir, what’s the meaning of this? Why are the troopers out of uniform outside the mess hall?” She’s much calmer than Hux, Castiel will give her that, but there’s no mistaking the sharpness in her tone.

“We’re doing something different, Captain,” Sam says, “to build camaraderie and morale.”

“Morale,” she says slowly. “I wasn’t aware we were concerned with their morale.”

“Shouldn’t we be?”

Phasma strides forward, tall and proud. Castiel doesn’t think it’s a front. “Our troopers have been raised from birth to be loyal to the Order. They live and breathe the Order. Their morale isn’t a concern.”

“They’re human, Phasma. They need socialization.”

“They’re warriors,” she says, probably a little too forcefully. “And the rules that govern their lives are under my jurisdiction. No changes are made to the training and daily conduct without my say.”

“Conduct ought to change with the needs and desires of the Order,” Sam says.

“The needs -” Phasma stops short of outright sneering. “I see.”

“Good,” Sam says, “then you’re dismissed.”

Phasma’s acknowledgment is cold as steel and Castiel knows immediately that they’ve fucked up. As soon as she leaves the throne room, Castiel is raising the alarm.

“You need to do what she wants,” Castiel says.

Sam shakes his head. “No. If she’s been in charge of the program for how many years she’s made those people’s lives hell. They deserve a break even for a little while.”

“Sam, I’m serious. Phasma is dangerous.”

“So am I.”

“No, Sam,” Castiel rounds the throne, staring at the metal grate where Sam’s eyes should be. “She cares about one person, and that’s herself. She’s not above killing you in your sleep if you cross her.”

“Well it’s a good thing you’re here,” Sam says.

“You don’t get it. She’s a killer.”

“So am I,” Sam says.

Castiel shakes his head. “Sam Winchester, you pull your head out of your ass. You might want to do good around here but it’s going to get you killed. Or it’s going to get Ben killed. You cannot be the good guy here.” He can’t see the look in Sam’s eyes, but he knows he’s gotten through when Sam’s shoulders drop.

“This is bullshit, Cas,” he says quietly.

Castiel can’t find that he disagrees.

* * *

 

They’ve been sleeping in Kylo’s room, which is supposedly the largest on the ship but it’s starved of all comfort. There is a bed, and a couch and fabric draped along the walls, but there’s nothing familiar or warm about any of it. It’s not just that it’s not home, either, it all radiates a kind of cold, detached aura that makes even Castiel feel on edge.

Every night when Sam goes to sleep, Castiel keeps watch like he has for so many years. But even he has to admit, it’s tremendously boring around the Axiom. The only saving grace Castiel has is his knowledge of Aurebesh. It turns out, having all of pop-culture implanted in your brain means all having all dictionaries and alphabets of fictional languages, like Aurebesh and Elvish and High Valyrian. He's glad at least one of them could come in handy.

So Castiel spends his nights, sitting on the stiff couch, reading the reports of the day. The First Order hasn’t found out their spy has been captured yet, as the information they’re getting still comes in in a steady trickle. That will give the Resistance some time, at least. Other things are much less encouraging. There are gangsters on the payroll, operations that involve manufacturing invasions that the First Order can then stop, and other planets scheduled for shelling. It’s disheartening, but Castiel hadn’t expected anything different. Sam’s proposals are in the files, too, though they’ve not been enforced to any degree. Castiel doubts they ever will be.

The bedroom door hisses open and Castiel is on his feet in an instant. He charges towards the door, ready to fight but it shuts in his face before he gets the chance. He punches the code on the wall and the door zips open once again, but there’s not a soul in sight. It could be an electrical glitch, but something tells Castiel that it’s a lot more than that.

Castiel scans the room, looking for any sign of a weapon or intruder, but there's nothing. That is until he hears a skittering against the durasteel floor.

“Sam!” Castiel hisses, running over to the side of the bed. “Sam, get up!”

Castiel shakes flings the blanket back, shoving him into a sitting position. Sam fights, of course, until he starts to wake and realize who’s moving him around.

“Cas? What’s going on?” Sam asks, voice thick from sleep.

“There’s something in this room, and you need to get up right now,” Castiel says.

“What?” Sam stiffens. “What’s in here?”

Castiel doesn’t get a chance to say anything before he spots movement near the foot of the bed. It’s hard to see in the darkness, but he has a strong suspicion he knows what it is.

“Move,” Castiel says, shoving Sam over the side of the bed.

“What is it? Cas, you’re freaking me out.”

Castiel cautiously lifts the blanket off the bed. He’s not entirely sure these beetles won’t hurt him and he’s not in the mood to find out if they will or not. Sure enough, here’s one small beetle, scurrying up the sheets, looking for food.

“That,” Castiel says, pointing.

Sam stands, a little wobbly, and looks down at the bug. “That thing? It’s tiny.”

“It’s deadly. One bite will make you swell up and explode, like a water balloon filled with blood.”

“Thanks for the visual, Cas.”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “We need to get rid of it,” he says.

“Step on it,” Sam says.

“What if it crawls up my pants leg?”

“What, it can’t kill you, can it?”

“I have no idea.”

The beetle changes direction, crawling back towards the foot of the bed. If it gets on the floor they’re never going to be able to find it.

“I could smite it?” Castiel suggests.

Sam’s lips pinch together as he considers it. “Or,” he sticks his hand under the pillow he was just sleeping on. Castiel is about to admonish him when Sam pulls out the lightsaber.

“That’s overkill,” Castiel says.

“And smiting it isn’t?”

“If you miss -”

“When am I going to have the opportunity to do this again?” Sam asks.

He has a point, of course, but Castiel is weary. Sam’s not bad with a blade but there’s a difference between cutting the head off a vampire and searing a bug. Not that slicing off heads is easy, just something he’s more used to.

Sam stands back, igniting the saber with the push of a button. It roars to life, humming and pulsing, plasma beam letting it’s red light snap and crackle frantically. The glow it gives Sam’s face is eerie, and maybe even a little hellish.

Sam swings the saber in the air twice in a figure eight. It really does make that zooming noise, though this one has a distinct purr to it that Castiel can’t quite place. Sam isn’t bothered. He’s giddy in a way Castiel can’t remember seeing, and it makes him look considerably younger. He doesn’t waste time with the bug, however. He sticks the sword out, poking the creature. It shrieks as it dies, and one of its antennae catches fire. Castiel blows it out.

Sam swings the saber one more time before shutting it off. “That wasn’t as cool as I was hoping,” he says.

Castiel shakes his head. “This isn’t cool at all. You could have died.”

Sam frowns. “How do you think that even got in here?”

“Phasma.”

“You’re sure?”

“She’s done this before. Last time was an assassination as well.”

“Assassination,” Sam mutters.

“We’ve got to be a lot warier now,” Castiel says.

Sam swallows and nods.

* * *

 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Jack shouts. Rey is far away, standing in the middle of a clearing.

“Yeah, it'll be fine,” Rey says.

She'd fixed the lightsaber the night before and has been itching to test it out again. Jack figured that meant she'd slice through some trees or something, but no. She wanted him to help. By shooting at her.

“Alright,” Jack mutters. He pulls the trigger on the blaster she let him borrow. Its electric squeal rips through the silence of the meadow, blasting through the dirt yards away from Rey.

“Did you miss on purpose?” Rey shouts.

“...no.”

“Just shoot at me. Trust me I'll get out of the way in time.”

Jack hasn't ever shot at a person before. He's not really sure he wants to, actually. But he doesn't want to let Rey down, so he actually aims this time and squeezes the trigger.

This time the red beam of light is split in the air by Rey's saber, crackling and fizzing in the air.

“Cool!” Jack shouts.

“Okay. Now do it again but this time fire three shots,” Rey says.

“I don't’ think that's a good idea,” Jack says.

“I'll be fine!”

So Jack does.

The first two shots wind up split in the air by Rey's swings. The last comes dangerously close to Rey's shoulder.

"It's okay," Rey shouts, "just a little slow. Try it again."

"Nuh-uh," Jack says.

"It's fine," she insists.

"Unless I hit you in the face," Jack says.

"So set it to stun!"

Oh. He can do that? Jack looks down at the blaster and turns the knob switching from lethal to non-lethal. And then he does as Rey asks.

The two of them manage to waste two entire blaster packs and what's left of the daylight. Once the sun slips down below the horizon the only light there really is is the saber. The resistance base is too far away to make out through the trees.

Rey walks right up next to Jack, flopping down on her back into the grass. She's breathing hard and a few flyaway hairs stick to the sweat on her neck, but she's no worse for ware. Even if Jack did wind up hitting her once or twice.

Jack sits down in the grass, cross-legged and quiet, listening to the sounds of the alien night. There are no crickets like he's used to, just sharp buzzing noises from some kind of bug. The sky, too, is different, and Jack finds himself staring up, looking for familiar constellations but finding none.

"Now that you've got your lightsaber fixed, what are you gonna do?" Jack asks. She'd been devoting a lot of time to that saber, even more, when Jack tried to start conversations.

"Train, I think. Work on my swings," she says.

"That seems like a smart idea," he says. And then, after a beat: “can I practice with the lightsaber?”

“What? No! Why?” Rey sits up, resting her weight on her hands behind her.

“Why not? I’m capable,” Jack says.

“It’s not a toy,” Rey says. “It’s a serious weapon.”

“And blasters aren’t?”

Rey huffs. “It’s different. I’m kind of… it’s mine. And it’s dangerous. You could cut your arm off.”

Jack sighs. “Well, then you can teach me!”

“Teach you? Teach you what? I don’t even know how I do it.”

“Really? I thought you would at least know how to like… hit I guess.”

Rey sighs. “There really isn’t any formal training. At least not how I learned. Most of it just comes from knowing your opponent and knowing yourself.”

“That seems kind of - boring.”

Rey snorts.

“No, I just mean,” Jack sighs, “I thought there was like - techniques and things you had to learn to be a Jedi. I thought they’d be cool to learn.”

Rey laughs. “Well, if you figure out those techniques could you show them to me? I’m sort of lost here if you haven’t figured it out by now.”

“The books don’t help?”

“I’ve read flight logs less confusing.”

“Maybe we need to get a hold of a force ghost. They’ll probably help.”

Rey rolls her eyes. “Ghosts aren’t real.”

“That’s… I wasn’t expecting that,” Jack says.

Rey is quiet as she looks up at the stars, lips pursed. Neither of them says anything for a long time, so long that Jack’s feet start falling asleep under him.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this,” Rey says, her voice so quiet Jack nearly misses it.

“Do what?” Jack asks.

“All of it. All I ever wanted was my family back and now - I guess we can’t always get what we want, can we?”

“I dunno, I think being a Jedi is way cooler than anything else,” Jack says.

“You have parents. Three of them. Of course, you’d think it’s cool to be the hero. I just think it’s going to be a whole lot of heartache.”

“Why heartache? Being the hero is supposed to be good and fulfilling. You shouldn’t be sad about it.”

Rey sighs. “Just forget I said anything.”

Jack would press further, but suddenly he can hear Castiel’s voice in his head.

**_Jack, we’ve found a way to go home._ **

Jack jumps to his feet, starling the hell out of Rey as he does.

**_Dean and Kylo have found a temple in the outer rim. Supposedly it’s got a way for us to get home. Is there any way you can meet us somewhere? We can come get you._ **

Jack’s heart races in his chest. He’s going to get to go home! He’s going to see his dads again! It’s going to be okay.

… wait, did Cas say Kylo Ren? Why are they working with him?

_Cas, is Dean okay? Is he being held hostage?”_

**_What? No. He’s fine. We’re fine. Just tell us where we can meet you._ **

_No, it’s okay,_ Jack sends off, _I’ll meet you there. We’re in the outer rim. What planet is it?_

Cas gives him the name of a planet he’s never heard of, and Jack in nearly giddy with the information.

“Rey,” he says, shaking her shoulder, “I can go home. They’ve found a way for me to get home.”

She smiles at him, though she still looks a little sad. “That’s great, Jack.”

“And, I know where Kylo Ren is.”

Rey frowns. “... okay?”

“He’s there! And if you take me to my dads we can both get what we want. I can go home and you can defeat him.”

“Jack, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not? We could kill two birds with one stone, as Dean says.”

Rey stands, brushing the grass off her pants. “Jack, I - I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

“I can help!” Jack says. “I’ll hold him down! I don’t think he can take both of us.”

“No, Jack.”

“Why not?”

“Because. It’s just - not the right time. It’s not my place.”

“Of course it’s your place, you’re the -”

“The hero, I know. I get it, okay!” She has her arms wrapped around her chest and she’s not looking at Jack anymore. “I know. But I don’t want to do this right now.”

“Fine then,” Jack says, “I’ll just ask Poe to take me. We might not be as effective but -”

“Wait, what?” Rey’s voice is cold and calm and just a little scary.

“I said I’ll have Poe take me.”

“You wouldn’t!” Rey puts her hands on her hips and gets right in Jack’s face.

“If you don’t want to do it, I know he will.”

Rey bites her lip, staring at something off behind Jack. She definitely looks mad now. “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” she says.

“If you can’t do it, I’ll kill him.”

Rey shakes her head, heaving a deep exhale. “Where are we going?”

 


	7. Dean

_“Understanding is honoring the truth beneath the surface.” The Clone Wars 4x05 Mercy Mission_

The air is so thick breathing almost feels like swallowing water. This planet, whatever the hell it's name is, is one giant rainforest. It’s hot and sticky and the air smells like rotted tree roots and bird shit.

The trek through the tangle of vines and roots and branches is slow going. It’s probably just as well. Dean’s not sure he’d be able to breathe if they went much faster. And there’s also the factor of whatever creatures live in this forest. Dean would swear he saw some funky turkey-sized hummingbird, and he’s not really interested in finding out what it eats.

“I sure hope Sam’s making better use of that lightsaber than we would be right about now,” Dean grumbles, ducking a slick tree branch.

Ben snorts ahead of him. “It shouldn’t take much longer,” he says.

“Please tell me this one isn’t going to be a maze, too.”

Once Dean and Ben had finally been able to get over themselves, the temple became easy to navigate. Probably because the force is a dick and likes to fuck with people. Turns out what they were looking for was a map. A map made out of actual paper. Ben got the same look on his face that Sam does when he finds a particularly dorky experiment or observation from the Men of Letters in their library. No wonder they got along, they’re both giant nerds.

“I hope not,” Ben says. “We may have to look through a dozen temples before we find what we’re after.”

“And what exactly are we after?”

“Some kind of mural or mosaic or maybe even a statue of three figures; a father, a son, and a daughter. They’re all over early Jedi sites.”

“That sounds vaguely familiar,” Dean says.

“Does it?”

“Like I said, Jack likes to watch the cartoons.”

“The fact that knowledge that’s nearly been lost to the ages is available to you in a children’s show yet you haven’t even mastered intergalactic travel is enough to break my brain, I hope you know.”

Dean snorts. “Yeah, well, you guys don’t have cheese wiz so I think we can call it even.”

Dean catches sight of the temple the same time Ben does. It’s carved into the side of a hill, covered in vines and moss. There are nests of some kind in the knotted foliage and large flowers that shimmer and twitch in the sunlight. Neither of them says anything as they make their way into the temple, which unlike the last one, echoes will the sounds of life deep inside. It’s also not nearly as dark as the last one, as a stream of light pours in from some unseen crack in the ceiling, painting the whole room in soft light.

There’s a giant fountain sitting in the middle of the chamber, full of dirty water and tadpole-like creatures that shine in a rainbow of colors as they dart through the algae. There might even be some actual fish deeper in the basin, but it’s much too dark to actually make out what those darker shapes are.

Next to him, Ben lets out an incredulous little snort. “For once it looks like we’re lucky,” he says.

Dean looks up and past the fountain, towards the massive wall deeper in the cave. There, half carved and half painted into the earth is a mural of three figures; an old man, a young woman with long white hair, and a young man with red markings on his face.

“Is that what we’re looking for?” Dean asks.

Ben doesn’t answer. Instead, he leaps over the stone barrier around the fountain that divides the room in two and walks over to the mural.

“This has to be thousands of years old,” Ben says.

It doesn’t seem possible, but he actually looks small standing in front of the massive painting.

“So now what?” Dean asks, leaping over the barrier.

“I’m not sure,” Ben says. “There’s a way to get these to open, I’m just not sure what that is.”

“What do you mean you’re not sure? I thought you said you knew.”

“I know it can be done, just not the details.”

Dean’s about to complain when Ben puts his fingertips to the stone. The gold under his fingers begins to glow and travel through the grooves on the left side of the stone, flowing towards the ceiling in molten light. The mural itself actually shifts, the younger of the two men actually moving further to the left. Both Ben and Dean stumble backward.

The light fades, and they’re left staring at each other.

“I think we better call Sam,” Dean says.

Ben agrees.

* * *

 

It takes a few hours for Sam and Cas to finally show up. It's just long enough for Dean to fall asleep and wake up groggy.

It's not enough to keep him from breaking out in a stupid grin when he sees his brother, though.

"Look at you, Sammy," Dean says, taking in his brother, draped from head to toe in black. "It's like if Fabio and Darth Vader had a baby."

Cas at least seems to get a chuckle out of it. Sam just rolls his eyes.

"Wow," Sam says, looking at the mural over Dean's head. "Is that… what exactly is that?"

"Its a doorway," Ben says, rising to his feet. He too had fallen asleep while they waited for Sam and Cas. "I think."

"How do we open it?" Cas asks.

"I'm not entirely sure," Ben says. "I was hoping you might have suggestions," he's looking right at Sam as he speaks.

Dean can't resist the urge to roll his eyes when Sam trips on his own tongue.

"I- hmm," he walks forward, putting his hand to the mural, "well it's probably magic."

"Wow. Observant," Dean grumbles.

Sam rolls his eyes. "I'm guessing there's a light and dark element? Maybe? Considering the imagery."

"That would explain why it started glowing when Ben touched it," Dean says.

"Okay, so now what? What else needs to be done?" Sam asks.

"I would wager the other side needs to be opened," Castiel says.

"Well," Dean sighs, "any ideas on who or what could open it?"

"Yes, but you're not going to like it," Ben says.

"I haven't liked half the shit that's gone on this week," Dean mumbles.

Before anyone could say anything else there was a loud snapping and thumping outside the temple.

"I'm really hoping that's Jack," Sam says.

"You called Jack already?" Dean asks.

Three things happen all at once: Dean is knocked straight on his ass, Ben is pushed up against the far wall, and Jack bursts in, blazing blue lightsaber in his hands.

"Jack!" Sam calls out, "Jack, what are you doing?"

Jack doesn't answer, instead, he advances into the low light, the saber glow making his face as pale as death.

Sam, Dean, and Castiel scramble to their feet, Castiel doing his best to knock Jack off course with his grace. Dean and Sam are both vaulting over the fountain barrier when they're pushed back, once again, this time with a lot more force.

Dean doesn't really need to look up to see who it is, but he does anyway, just in time to see Sam unclipping the lightsaber from his belt only to watch it fly out of his hand and across the room. Cas, seeing this, redirects attention away from Jack and towards Rey. The two wind up pushing each other but neither moves as they're locked in a strange sort of stalemate.

All Dean can do is swear.

"Jack, what the hell are you doing?" Sam calls out.

"What we're supposed to do, Sam. Stop the bad guys."

"He's on our side, Jack," Dean shouts.

"That's what he wants you to think," Jack says. He stops, staring up a Ben who's completely pinned to the wall.

"Jack, stop it!" Sam shouts. "You don't get to call the shots on this one."

"He's a monster. We kill monsters," Jack says.

"He's just a guy. A guy who's done some really stupid and shitty things but he's not a monster. Not any more than you are," Sam says.

Jack spares a brief glance Sam's way.

“That’s different,” Jack says. “I’m different.”

“Not by that much,” Sam says. “You’re not and neither was I.”

“You’re a good person, Sam,” Jack thrusts the lightsaber out, inches away from Ben’s neck. “He’s not.”

“Jack, wait,” Dean sits up, finding that he actually can. If he can get to Jack and maybe knock the kid off his feet this isn’t going to be as bad as it could be. “Jack, this isn’t very Jedi of you.”

“Yes, it is!” Jack says.

“Revenge isn’t the Jedi way,” Dean says, feeling incredibly nerdy as he does. He stands to his feet, hands out so Jack knows he doesn’t have a weapon. “Revenge, killing without a fair fight, all that isn’t what a Jedi is supposed to do.”

“Neither is killing your dad,” Jack says.

“Never said it was,” Dean says, “but this isn’t right and you know it. We need him. We need to get home.”

Jack seems to hesitate for just a moment and Dean takes his chance. He lunges for Jack’s legs, only to be pushed back until he collides with the fountain.

“What’s wrong with you!” Jack shouts. “Why are you defending him?”

“Jack,” Cas grunts from across the room, “right or wrong, this isn’t your place.” Dean can’t see him, but he’d wager a guess that he’s still deadlocked with Rey. “This isn’t our world. This isn’t our story,” Cas says.

The lightsaber shuts off, and Dean sighs a breath of relief. Until he realizes that he still can’t move.

“You’re right,” Jack says. He thrusts his arm out, and there’s a loud thud against the stone followed by a groan from Cas. “It’s her’s.” He holds the saber out to Rey, who’s now standing wide-eyed in the middle of the room.

“Jack, that’s not what we meant!” Sam shouts.

Jack isn’t paying attention. He’s advancing on Rey, nearly sticking the saber in her face. “Go ahead,” he says, “I’ll hold him.”

When Rey takes it, she’s pushed across the floor, her feet dragging and kicking up dust as she’s moved.

And then, it’s silent. She’s less than a foot away from Ben, who’s still pinned to the wall. And they just stare at each other, their breathing the only noise in the entire temple.

“What are you waiting for?” Jack asks.

No one answers. Rey ignites the saber but does not move it. It’s probably only ten seconds at most that they all sit there, holding their breaths, but it feels like ages. And all Dean can think is how the hell they’re supposed to have a third movie if Rey kills Ben off-screen.

“Rey! Do it!”

And then, the tension breaks. Jack is knocked back, across the room and Dean finds he can move again. Sam helps him to his feet as they watch Ben collapse into the dirt. Did she really just -?

“Enough!” Rey shouts. She whirls around, eyes blazing in the blue light of her saber. “Enough! I’m not doing this anymore. I don’t want to do this, and you can’t make me.”

Dean watches as Ben picks himself up to kneel in the dirt at Rey’s feet and he’s a lot more relieved than he thought he’d be.

“You have good intentions, Jack,” Rey says, “but I will not have my hand forced. Not by you,” she looks down at Ben, “not by anyone.”

He looks like he’s run a mile, but all Ben does is nod and bow his head.

“I will do what I choose to do,” she says, sheathing the saber and hopping over the barrier, “right or wrong it’s going to be my choice. And your ideas of what a hero ought to be have no bearing on me.”

She marches right up to the mural, as if she knows what she’s doing, and presses her palm to it. This time, the right side glows and the woman shifts out of the way. The older man opens his hands, and a blinding gold light pours from the painting. When it fades, there is a dark ring in the center of the mural, standing in stark contrast to the otherworldly glow the figures now share.

“Well,” Rey tips her head towards the portal,” this is what you came for, isn’t it?”

For a moment, no one moves. Sam seems to want to run over to Ben and Cas keeps eyeing Jack, but Dean knows when he’s being kicked out. He’s the one who starts to move towards the portal, ignoring Sam’s muttering.

Jack, for his part, looks ashamed and doesn’t even spare a glance at the two behind him as they all pass through the portal. Dean does, however, and the tense way they’re both standing, looking only at each other is something Dean’s going to be thinking about for a long time.

 


	8. Castiel

_“Where we are going always reflects where we came from.” The Clone Wars 4x11 Kidnapped_

“What is this place?”

Castiel isn’t sure who says it, the sound is far too distorted for that. It’s like anything that’s said in this place repeats until there’s no sound left.

“It’s a place between,” Castiel finds himself saying. Around them, the cosmos swirls in a display of light and violence. Nebulas of blue and green and purple twirl and combine, giving birth to new stars that swell as they grow. Planets crash into one another, caught in the orbit of their dying stars and each other. Quasars spin, shooting blue light across the sky and down below their feet. It’s the history of the universe, sped up for easier consumption.

“In between what?” Dean asks.

“Between,” Castiel says. The closest he’s ever seen to something like this was a different dimension he’d got himself stuck in in the third century. But that was mostly void. It wasn’t nearly as beautiful as this.

“Are we going to fall?” Jack asks.

Below them there is nothing. Or, more accurately, there’s everything under their feet except solid ground. They’re standing on nothing, but they’re fully supported.

“No,” Castiel says, “I don’t think so.”

That doesn’t stop Dean from slapping his hand down on Castiel’s shoulder. He’ll say that it’s to keep them together if Castiel mentions it, but he knows it’s more for Dean’s sense of safety than anything.

Castiel is the first one to take a step forward, and as soon as he does their environment comes to life. There are voices, coming from nowhere and echoing off nothing, spanning all of time and space. Some of them Castiel recognizes: Princess Leia, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Yoda, but there are others he couldn’t hope to place. He has a feeling that whatever they’ve just stumbled upon, it’s important and special, and they’re lucky to get to be here.

“Is this a time portal?” Jack asks, staring up at an exploding supernova.

“Maybe?” Sam says. “But where do we need to go to get home?”

As if on queue, a string of stars comes together in a long line, all shining brighter than anything else around them. “I think we’re supposed to go that way,” Castiel says.

He takes the first step, leading them forward. As they walk, the path becomes more active. Shapes and images swirl into focus around them and the source of the voices becomes more clear. There are battles between Jedi and Sith on planets too strange to name, royalty arguing in opulent throne rooms, children running through the desert and babies being born. There are rebels making their stand and villains wreaking havoc. And there are quiet moments, gentle ones, between friends and lovers as they look to the stars and each other. It really is all of time and space.

“Are these all portals?” Sam asks.

“Looks like it,” Dean says.

“So if we wanted to -” Sam starts.

“No, I want to go home,” Jack says.

Castiel looks down at Jack, who’s been standing at his side ever since they’d walked through the portal. He looks tired and shaken, and even though he doesn’t sleep Castiel thinks he could use a nap. It’s been a long day for him. A frightening day. It’s been that way for all of them.

It doesn’t take them too long to find the end of their star path and the portal that opens up to their empty movie room. Together, all four of them walk through.

* * *

 

Sam and Dean are sitting in the kitchen when Castiel finally gets out of Jack’s room.

“How’s he doing?” Dean asks.

“He’s shaken,” Castiel says. “It’s not every day he gets thrown around.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, “but at least it wasn’t a monster his first time. No real danger there.”

“I think he’s also trying to adjust to a new way of thinking,” Castiel says. “He was very… determined about his view of the world.”

“Well, maybe that’s a good thing,” Sam says. “There are gray areas all over the place. He’s a gray area.”

Castiel hums as he pours himself a cup of coffee. He groans, taking a hearty swallow. God, he missed real coffee.

“How are you doing?” Castiel asks.

Sam shrugs. “I feel like there’s a mess I should be cleaning up.”

“Well,” Dean says, “good news is we’ll know if it does get cleaned up eventually.”

Sam makes a face at his orange juice. “Yeah. I guess. I wish I could’ve warned him, though.”

“He’ll figure it out,” Dean says. “He’s not stupid.”

“Yeah, it’s not just that,” Sam says, “you saw the look on Rey’s face. She’s the one I’m more worried about.”

“She’s smart, too. She’ll figure it out,” Dean says.

“Maybe.”

“Hey, what’s that thing you’re always going on and on about Star Wars being about?”

“Hope?” Sam asks.

“Right. So have hope. Or something. I dunno man, it’s just a movie.”

Sam snorts. “Kinda makes you wonder what other things happen in between films. Like are there limitless realities where every movie ever made is real and the characters do things when we’re not looking.”

“That’s called fanfiction,” Dean says.

“Fiction is just nonfiction written in the wrong universe,” Castiel says.

“You stole that from Night Vale,” Sam laughs.

Castiel shrugs as the three of them settle into a comfortable, if not tired silence. They’re home and they’re safe, but something has shifted in all of them. Only time can really tell what that is.

Or they have space jetlag. That could be it, too.


	9. Artist notes

Howdy! Bees here!

First off, just gotta say that when I saw there was a Star Wars crossover on the claims list, i was like "MINE!" 

It's such a fun read, and it was equally as fun to do the art for this story! (something cathartic about scratching a bunch of colored ink into a blank page)

For all three images I used sharpie markers and a ball point pen... However, if you notice that the scene where the guys are all sitting around the table has a little bit different look to it, well, I only had hot pink and funky orange to work with in the range of skin tones, so that one had a bit of Photoshop editing done. I had to paint the skin tones, then filtered a bit so it would look less airbrushed. 

For the banner art, I used several different images of Tokyo back alleys for the building reference, and I think it turned out really neat; the cantina art was a nod to the original cantina scene from "A New Hope"; and finally, for the desert art, I used a combination of the Sahara and the Colorado dunes for the scene model.

Anyhoo! Go give this fic some kudos! It deserves 'em :) 

 


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